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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 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 Gastr Del Sol to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Chris Corsano. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yaz,
Al Stewart,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Martian,
Sister Nancy,
The United States of America,
Mr. Review,
The Star Department,
Roxy Music,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Mummies,
Nik Kershaw,
The Durutti Column,
Panda Bear,
Marmalade,
Mark Hollis,
Dual Sessions,
Black Moon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Evens,
Skarface,
Oblivians,
the Fania All-Stars,
U.S. Maple,
The Seeds,
Cluster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sandy B,
Blancmange,
Audionom,
The Monochrome Set,
John Foxx,
Pagans,
Robert Hood,
Parry Music,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Zero Boys,
Swell Maps,
Harmonia,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moody Blues,
Todd Terry,
Eli Mardock,
Hoover,
Scott Walker,
Infiniti,
The Happenings,
Jeff Lynne,
Camouflage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Stooges,
Livin' Joy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Loose Ends,
The Zeros,
Erasure,
DNA,
Organ,
The Fall,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.