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 Kenya and from Halifax.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lalann to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bad Manners record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Ludus,
Yazoo,
Pantytec,
E-Dancer,
Davy DMX,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Count Five,
Tomorrow,
Harmonia,
The Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
In Retrospect,
The Detroit Cobras,
The United States of America,
Marvin Gaye,
Arcadia,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare,
Sugar Minott,
The Seeds,
Gabor Szabo,
Funkadelic,
Bill Near,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sonic Youth,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kas Product,
Fatback Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tubeway Army,
B.T. Express,
Das Ding,
Quadrant,
Faust,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chris Corsano,
Gichy Dan,
Lucky Dragons,
Colin Newman,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fela Kuti,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fall,
Adolescents,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
Derrick Morgan,
Babytalk,
Camberwell Now,
Rites of Spring,
Sight & Sound,
The Skatalites,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.