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 Kyrgyzstan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Milan.
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 guitar 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 Archie Shepp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
Easy Going,
Connie Case,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Warsaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blake Baxter,
Skaos,
Roger Hodgson,
Sister Nancy,
Lindisfarne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Avey Tare,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Hasil Adkins,
Lou Christie,
E-Dancer,
Erasure,
Godley & Creme,
Yellowson,
Urselle,
Radio Birdman,
Joy Division,
Talk Talk,
Funky Four + One,
Section 25,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Starr,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Camberwell Now,
Little Man,
Terrestrial Tones,
Harry Pussy,
Fluxion,
Warren Ellis,
The Modern Lovers,
Flipper,
The Monks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
China Crisis,
The Golliwogs,
The Grass Roots,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Names,
Intrusion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Smiths,
Magma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Siglo XX,
Mad Mike,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.