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 Ukraine and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the theremin 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 MC5 to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Ronan,
Charles Mingus,
Tubeway Army,
Gabor Szabo,
Skaos,
Negative Approach,
The Monochrome Set,
Vladislav Delay,
The Trojans,
Trumans Water,
Ultra Naté,
Cameo,
Cal Tjader,
Aloha Tigers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Grey Daturas,
Funkadelic,
The Misunderstood,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Sheep,
Nick Fraelich,
New Order,
Joey Negro,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Anakelly,
Dead Boys,
The Star Department,
Harmonia,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radio Birdman,
The Smoke,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rotary Connection,
Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Ituana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Royal Trux,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Mojo Men,
Alison Limerick,
Faraquet,
Erasure,
the Human League,
Mars,
Qualms,
Bobby Womack,
the Sonics,
Iggy Pop,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Beau Brummels,
Arcadia,
Funky Four + One,
Black Moon,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.