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 Belgium and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Babytalk to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 the Association. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Man Parrish,
Sandy B,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Parry Music,
The Smoke,
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gregory Isaacs,
Schoolly D,
Lou Christie,
Bill Wells,
Rufus Thomas,
Babytalk,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Slackers,
Roxy Music,
James White and The Blacks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Scott Walker,
Lyres,
The Music Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Scrapy,
Tomorrow,
Graham Central Station,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Index,
The Grass Roots,
Amon Düül II,
Jeff Mills,
Tres Demented,
X-Ray Spex,
Isaac Hayes,
Todd Terry,
Arcadia,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Los Fastidios,
Nick Fraelich,
Agitation Free,
The Monks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Funkadelic,
Glenn Branca,
Mandrill,
The Vogues,
Joe Smooth,
Unwound,
Thee Headcoats,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
Bobby Womack,
Archie Shepp,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Boredoms,
Roger Hodgson,
The Toasters,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.