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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Charles Mingus to the grime 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Brass Construction,
Gong,
Goldenarms,
Harry Pussy,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Finger,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nas,
Marine Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Al Stewart,
Cecil Taylor,
Visage,
Junior Murvin,
The Remains,
The Toasters,
Nirvana,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
New York Dolls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Monks,
Schoolly D,
Heaven 17,
Thee Headcoats,
Pulsallama,
Tears for Fears,
Frankie Knuckles,
OOIOO,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy Collins,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fluxion,
The Grass Roots,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Martian,
Joe Smooth,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Starr,
Surgeon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Angry Samoans,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Invisible,
Sun City Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Flag,
Throbbing Gristle,
The J.B.'s,
Guru Guru,
the Bar-Kays,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Raincoats,
Magma,
The Walker Brothers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Litter,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.