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 Lesotho and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 dance 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Scott Walker,
Deakin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Avey Tare,
Y Pants,
Ludus,
Bobby Sherman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Mills,
ABC,
Unrelated Segments,
Colin Newman,
Metal Thangz,
Excepter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Donny Hathaway,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
Kayak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Los Fastidios,
the Fania All-Stars,
ABBA,
Buzzcocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
Reagan Youth,
Isaac Hayes,
Harry Pussy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Man Parrish,
Gichy Dan,
The Real Kids,
Supertramp,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxy Music,
Steve Hackett,
Barry Ungar,
Pantaleimon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Dirtbombs,
Aural Exciters,
Stereo Dub,
Sällskapet,
U.S. Maple,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kas Product,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
June Days,
Angry Samoans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Crime,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Al Stewart,
Faraquet,
a-ha,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Sonics,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.