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 Dominican Republic and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 Delhi and Sao Paulo.
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 guitar 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 Flamin' Groovies to the rap 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Barrington Levy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
The American Breed,
Gang Starr,
Althea and Donna,
The Cowsills,
Cal Tjader,
Sister Nancy,
Audionom,
Magma,
Isaac Hayes,
Matthew Halsall,
Quantec,
Blancmange,
Rotary Connection,
Zero Boys,
The New Christs,
R.M.O.,
The Sonics,
Anakelly,
Sound Behaviour,
Tim Buckley,
These Immortal Souls,
John Foxx,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Loose Ends,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gap Band,
Khruangbin,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Trojans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ice-T,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
Bluetip,
Spoonie Gee,
The Associates,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joyce Sims,
Bob Dylan,
The Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Tomorrow,
the Sonics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Detroit Cobras,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sight & Sound,
Fat Boys,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Cramps,
Babytalk,
Q and Not U,
Lightning Bolt,
Tom Boy,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.