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 Mongolia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eden Ahbez to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Sister Nancy,
Black Flag,
Half Japanese,
Girls At Our Best!,
Colin Newman,
John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
Wally Richardson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Suburban Knight,
Isaac Hayes,
Arthur Verocai,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pierre Henry,
Sugar Minott,
Unrelated Segments,
Charles Mingus,
Danielle Patucci,
The Star Department,
FM Einheit,
The Blackbyrds,
The Leaves,
Infiniti,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Litter,
David Bowie,
Prince Buster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Mr. Review,
Crispian St. Peters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Deakin,
Smog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Monolake,
Pole,
The Tremeloes,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fuzztones,
Man Parrish,
June of 44,
Kaleidoscope,
Fatback Band,
Rotary Connection,
Arab on Radar,
The Remains,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
World's Most,
Drexciya,
PIL,
Bobby Sherman,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Easy Going,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mantronix,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.