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 Mauritius and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Curtis Mayfield to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Mr. Review,
T. Rex,
Dual Sessions,
Kurtis Blow,
Sonny Sharrock,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Subhumans,
Susan Cadogan,
Mission of Burma,
Curtis Mayfield,
Inner City,
New Order,
Duran Duran,
Connie Case,
the Germs,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Scan 7,
the Sonics,
Schoolly D,
The Kinks,
Piero Umiliani,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joey Negro,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
R.M.O.,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lucky Dragons,
Rod Modell,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cowsills,
Black Sheep,
Crispian St. Peters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cecil Taylor,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeff Lynne,
the Normal,
Robert Hood,
Groovy Waters,
Wasted Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Half Japanese,
Delta 5,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Foxx,
Nation of Ulysses,
Von Mondo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.