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 Namibia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Roxy Music to the jazz 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 The New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
The Angels of Light,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Idris Muhammad,
Aswad,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
This Heat,
Iggy Pop,
Slave,
Fatback Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Marc Almond,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Misunderstood,
World's Most,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
Zapp,
PIL,
The Residents,
Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
Absolute Body Control,
The Saints,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Underground Resistance,
The Human League,
cv313,
Saccharine Trust,
Nation of Ulysses,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Franke,
Sam Rivers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lou Christie,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rapeman,
Intrusion,
Junior Murvin,
Arcadia,
Joyce Sims,
Youth Brigade,
Second Layer,
The Offenders,
T.S.O.L.,
The Mummies,
The J.B.'s,
AZ,
Todd Terry,
Lakeside,
the Swans,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
Jacques Brel,
The Gladiators,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.