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 Syria and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Charles Mingus,
Ossler,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Urselle,
Heaven 17,
Delon & Dalcan,
Interpol,
Davy DMX,
Girls At Our Best!,
Stetsasonic,
Nirvana,
The Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Fear,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shoche,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Motorama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Theoretical Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Slick Rick,
Altered Images,
Rod Modell,
Fad Gadget,
Donny Hathaway,
In Retrospect,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lalann,
Flipper,
Andrew Hill,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Popol Vuh,
The Skatalites,
Hardrive,
Suburban Knight,
Country Teasers,
the Human League,
Sound Behaviour,
Porter Ricks,
Vladislav Delay,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sister Nancy,
Royal Trux,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gerry Rafferty,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rapeman,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.