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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the organ 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Toasters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
Organ,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Moon,
Bobby Sherman,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Pretty Things,
Lalann,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
Von Mondo,
Sex Pistols,
Juan Atkins,
The Moleskins,
Scott Walker,
The Happenings,
Tres Demented,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Grandmaster Flash,
Steve Hackett,
Morten Harket,
DNA,
Warren Ellis,
Peter and Kerry,
Althea and Donna,
Livin' Joy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Albert Ayler,
The Selecter,
The Standells,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Maleditus Sound,
Agitation Free,
Visage,
Jeff Mills,
The Gories,
X-101,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
a-ha,
Fluxion,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Cowsills,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
The Motions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Los Fastidios,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.