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 Micronesia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sound Behaviour to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Average White Band,
The Fall,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bill Wells,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobby Sherman,
Crime,
Bronski Beat,
Porter Ricks,
Amon Düül II,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Flag,
Half Japanese,
Graham Central Station,
Rapeman,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Finger,
Rekid,
48th St. Collective,
Patti Smith,
Brick,
T. Rex,
Interpol,
Circle Jerks,
Boogie Down Productions,
Johnny Clarke,
Loose Ends,
Crash Course in Science,
The Leaves,
X-Ray Spex,
the Germs,
Second Layer,
The Moody Blues,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Black Dice,
Warren Ellis,
kango's stein massive,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dead Boys,
Monks,
Reuben Wilson,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers,
Excepter,
Tres Demented,
Deepchord,
Black Bananas,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eurythmics,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
These Immortal Souls,
The New Christs,
Little Man,
Connie Case,
The Beau Brummels,
Metal Thangz,
Pagans,
The Last Poets,
Malaria!,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.