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 Dominica and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Cell to the rap 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Electric Prunes,
Goldenarms,
Byron Stingily,
Blake Baxter,
Angry Samoans,
June of 44,
Youth Brigade,
Can,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Niagra,
Simply Red,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Red Krayola,
The Gladiators,
Subhumans,
Cal Tjader,
FM Einheit,
Magma,
The Remains,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wally Richardson,
The Dirtbombs,
Suburban Knight,
Slick Rick,
The Moleskins,
Trumans Water,
Siglo XX,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ronan,
Steve Hackett,
Hot Snakes,
Erasure,
Faraquet,
Wasted Youth,
The Golliwogs,
Flipper,
CMW,
Pylon,
Fat Boys,
Letta Mbulu,
Cybotron,
Yusef Lateef,
Half Japanese,
Isaac Hayes,
Al Stewart,
One Last Wish,
Michelle Simonal,
Pagans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Rod Modell,
Eden Ahbez,
The Doobie Brothers,
Joy Division,
The Stooges,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skriet,
Crash Course in Science,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.