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 Peru and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Tommy Roe to the funk 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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Pole tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Detroit Cobras,
Massinfluence,
Archie Shepp,
Soul Sonic Force,
Icehouse,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
Guru Guru,
Radiohead,
Brothers Johnson,
U.S. Maple,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Starr,
Kurtis Blow,
Swell Maps,
Tears for Fears,
The Names,
Cluster,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Womack,
The Angels of Light,
The Kinks,
ABC,
Johnny Osbourne,
Siglo XX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Altered Images,
Blancmange,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sister Nancy,
the Normal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Prince Buster,
Black Bananas,
The Golliwogs,
Connie Case,
Scan 7,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nick Fraelich,
Agitation Free,
The Dead C,
Eric Copeland,
a-ha,
PIL,
Blake Baxter,
Flipper,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pantytec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.