Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Brunei and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Flesh Eaters to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Franke. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Minutemen,
Wings,
Mr. Review,
MDC,
Todd Rundgren,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fear,
The Searchers,
The Cowsills,
Young Marble Giants,
Alison Limerick,
Surgeon,
Stetsasonic,
Jimmy McGriff,
F. McDonald,
Colin Newman,
Marine Girls,
Goldenarms,
Essential Logic,
Kaleidoscope,
Alphaville,
Kenny Larkin,
The Walker Brothers,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
Pet Shop Boys,
PIL,
Ludus,
Albert Ayler,
Skarface,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Idris Muhammad,
Nation of Ulysses,
The United States of America,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
K-Klass,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Spandau Ballet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Los Fastidios,
Brass Construction,
Howard Jones,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Mandrill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jacques Brel,
Moby Grape,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Invisible,
The Gladiators,
Tomorrow,
Alton Ellis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kayak,
Nils Olav,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs, Notorious Big And Bone Thugs.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.