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 Panama and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Donald Fagen 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 Crash Course in Science to the rap 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Gong,
The Neon Judgement,
Kevin Saunderson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
F. McDonald,
Monolake,
Bronski Beat,
Minnie Riperton,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yazoo,
JFA,
Kool Moe Dee,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Smiths,
Moebius,
the Germs,
Television,
AZ,
Radiohead,
The Remains,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Isaac Hayes,
Terry Callier,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skaos,
Fluxion,
The Martian,
The Busters,
Lindisfarne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Inner City,
Outsiders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Warsaw,
Lalann,
Crispian St. Peters,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
Brick,
Traffic Nightmare,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nils Olav,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Hood,
Pylon,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
The Durutti Column,
Bob Dylan,
Tropical Tobacco,
June Days,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Vainqueur,
Erasure,
Susan Cadogan,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Standells,
Patti Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.