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 Iceland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 John Holt to the rock 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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Minny Pops,
Nils Olav,
The Golliwogs,
Mandrill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Arab on Radar,
Stiv Bators,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Bill Wells,
Stockholm Monsters,
Althea and Donna,
Barry Ungar,
Graham Central Station,
Khruangbin,
Scientists,
Cameo,
EPMD,
Siglo XX,
the Slits,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mars,
Delta 5,
Neu!,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Sugar Minott,
Wolf Eyes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Brass Construction,
Soul II Soul,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barclay James Harvest,
The J.B.'s,
Zero Boys,
Stetsasonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gun Club,
The Tremeloes,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Motions,
Cal Tjader,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yellowson,
Section 25,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dawn Penn,
D'Angelo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Carl Craig,
Second Layer,
Fluxion,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.