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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eve St. Jones to the electroclash 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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All MC5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Kerri Chandler,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agitation Free,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Schoolly D,
UT,
Magma,
Soft Machine,
Average White Band,
The Victims,
Saccharine Trust,
The Index,
Ludus,
Adolescents,
the Normal,
Clear Light,
Au Pairs,
Ituana,
These Immortal Souls,
Sugar Minott,
Flamin' Groovies,
Warsaw,
Wally Richardson,
Quadrant,
Theoretical Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Marmalade,
Fugazi,
The Invisible,
Animal Collective,
The Buckinghams,
Circle Jerks,
X-101,
Byron Stingily,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marc Almond,
Lyres,
Los Fastidios,
The Busters,
Make Up,
Wire,
Shuggie Otis,
Pagans,
The Evens,
Public Image Ltd.,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gichy Dan,
Trumans Water,
FM Einheit,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harmonia,
This Heat,
Guru Guru,
Kas Product,
John Holt,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.