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 Cuba and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Holger Czukay 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 Dorothy Ashby to the rap 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 The Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Patti Smith,
Circle Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
Quadrant,
Warren Ellis,
The Grass Roots,
Gabor Szabo,
The Black Dice,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Con Funk Shun,
LL Cool J,
Faraquet,
Drexciya,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Kayak,
The American Breed,
Mo-Dettes,
Bronski Beat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Agitation Free,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Joe Finger,
Sonic Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
The Selecter,
The Standells,
The United States of America,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Agent Orange,
John Lydon,
A Certain Ratio,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ornette Coleman,
Hasil Adkins,
Kurtis Blow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Sonics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dawn Penn,
Eurythmics,
Masters at Work,
Rufus Thomas,
Delta 5,
Donald Byrd,
Freddie Wadling,
Bobby Sherman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Human League,
Dennis Brown,
Ultravox,
Organ,
Minutemen,
Loose Ends,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.