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 Djibouti and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Mo-Dettes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Blues Magoos,
Silicon Teens,
Radio Birdman,
Buzzcocks,
Joey Negro,
the Sonics,
Warsaw,
Clear Light,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kenny Larkin,
David Axelrod,
T. Rex,
Tom Boy,
Organ,
The Beau Brummels,
The Detroit Cobras,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Al Stewart,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dark Day,
Moby Grape,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacques Brel,
Eric Dolphy,
Mr. Review,
Jandek,
Josef K,
Skriet,
Avey Tare,
The Remains,
Black Moon,
Pagans,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
K-Klass,
Ituana,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pylon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Dual Sessions,
Chris & Cosey,
Stereo Dub,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Blackbyrds,
Cybotron,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Hasil Adkins,
Crime,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Erykah Badu,
Visage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fad Gadget,
The Slits,
The Gap Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon, John Lydon.
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.