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 Gambia and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 The Misunderstood to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
The Sonics,
Bob Dylan,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Wolf Eyes,
Radiohead,
T.S.O.L.,
Mad Mike,
Altered Images,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Germs,
John Coltrane,
Rosa Yemen,
Trumans Water,
The Moleskins,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rekid,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
Organ,
Franke,
The Saints,
Arthur Verocai,
Ornette Coleman,
Young Marble Giants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nico,
Roy Ayers,
Basic Channel,
Pussy Galore,
Excepter,
Henry Cow,
Alice Coltrane,
Pulsallama,
Harmonia,
The Detroit Cobras,
Suicide,
Boogie Down Productions,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Vogues,
Agent Orange,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Skriet,
Ludus,
These Immortal Souls,
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Tremeloes,
Niagra,
Moby Grape,
R.M.O.,
Patti Smith,
Terry Callier,
Talk Talk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pagans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.