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 Sudan and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Shanghai.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 KRS-One to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Erykah Badu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
The Cowsills,
Absolute Body Control,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus,
Kayak,
Dennis Brown,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bauhaus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fear,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Camouflage,
Cheater Slicks,
Von Mondo,
JFA,
the Soft Cell,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Selecter,
The Litter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
The Gladiators,
Basic Channel,
The Slits,
Soul II Soul,
Radiohead,
Bizarre Inc.,
Henry Cow,
Black Sheep,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eyeless In Gaza,
This Heat,
Jeff Mills,
Clear Light,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Danielle Patucci,
Bob Dylan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
H. Thieme,
Marmalade,
Eric Copeland,
Maurizio,
Bronski Beat,
AZ,
Wire,
Deadbeat,
Skaos,
Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis, Shuggie Otis.
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.