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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Sparks to the crunk 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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Ice-T,
Marcia Griffiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Connie Case,
Shuggie Otis,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Suburban Knight,
Amon Düül,
ABC,
Avey Tare,
Marine Girls,
Depeche Mode,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ronnie Foster,
Agent Orange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Henry Cow,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Eve St. Jones,
Pierre Henry,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Smiths,
Mars,
Gabor Szabo,
Bill Near,
Harmonia,
T.S.O.L.,
The American Breed,
Mad Mike,
Howard Jones,
Bad Manners,
Soft Machine,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Tres Demented,
The Dead C,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Procol Harum,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funky Four + One,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Certain Ratio,
The Beau Brummels,
Jimmy McGriff,
Lalann,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lucky Dragons,
Charles Mingus,
Inner City,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Move,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Joensuu 1685,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.