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 Nigeria and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin 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 Matthew Bourne to the crunk 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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All One Last Wish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Young Marble Giants,
Connie Case,
ABBA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Franke,
David Axelrod,
The Pretty Things,
Scrapy,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
Donny Hathaway,
Thompson Twins,
Joe Finger,
Man Parrish,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
Bad Manners,
Marmalade,
KRS-One,
The Victims,
The Modern Lovers,
H. Thieme,
Bluetip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Neil Young,
Spoonie Gee,
Glenn Branca,
Scientists,
F. McDonald,
Crispy Ambulance,
Alphaville,
Mantronix,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fugazi,
Siglo XX,
Intrusion,
Fat Boys,
Bobby Womack,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus,
Fear,
Crash Course in Science,
The Remains,
10cc,
Agitation Free,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Residents,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Doors,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cameo,
The Skatalites,
Bang On A Can,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Misunderstood,
The Grass Roots,
the Swans,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.