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 Poland and from New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sonny Sharrock to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Rod Modell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mummies,
Model 500,
Dawn Penn,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
The Associates,
Yellowson,
Intrusion,
Moebius,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bang On A Can,
The Misunderstood,
Eddi Front,
Terry Callier,
Duran Duran,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roxy Music,
The Fugs,
Oneida,
The Pretty Things,
The Young Rascals,
The Modern Lovers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Yaz,
Hashim,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultra Naté,
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bluetip,
Joy Division,
Infiniti,
Scan 7,
Bootsy Collins,
Liliput,
Robert Görl,
The Walker Brothers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fall,
New Age Steppers,
The Leaves,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Archie Shepp,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Axelrod,
CMW,
Popol Vuh,
Little Man,
The Searchers,
Guru Guru,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.