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 Togo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Peter and Kerry to the disco 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 Cal Tjader. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Goldenarms,
The Velvet Underground,
The Knickerbockers,
Alphaville,
The Sonics,
Outsiders,
Marvin Gaye,
Graham Central Station,
The Divine Comedy,
Nils Olav,
Chris & Cosey,
The Walker Brothers,
Sixth Finger,
Iggy Pop,
Cluster,
James White and The Blacks,
Dual Sessions,
The Human League,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sandy B,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Cowsills,
China Crisis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Duran Duran,
the Normal,
KRS-One,
London Community Gospel Choir,
June Days,
The Moody Blues,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nas,
Minutemen,
Ossler,
Eric Copeland,
Sex Pistols,
Ultra Naté,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacques Brel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
Terry Callier,
Roy Ayers,
The Mummies,
the Fania All-Stars,
Motorama,
Japan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mission of Burma,
The Angels of Light,
Flamin' Groovies,
Animal Collective,
The Electric Prunes,
Camouflage,
Cecil Taylor,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.