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 Djibouti and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Bobby Byrd,
Faust,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tres Demented,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Red Krayola,
Anthony Braxton,
Magma,
The Young Rascals,
Dark Day,
Al Stewart,
Jeff Lynne,
Soul II Soul,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Public Image Ltd.,
Public Enemy,
Charles Mingus,
Rod Modell,
Lungfish,
Unrelated Segments,
Ronan,
Harmonia,
Trumans Water,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bob Dylan,
Kurtis Blow,
Patti Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
New York Dolls,
H. Thieme,
Severed Heads,
Freddie Wadling,
Pere Ubu,
Underground Resistance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed,
Subhumans,
Skarface,
Sex Pistols,
Steve Hackett,
B.T. Express,
Kas Product,
Scan 7,
Erykah Badu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Electric Prunes,
Fatback Band,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Flamin' Groovies,
10cc,
the Human League,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kerrie Biddell,
Silicon Teens,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sun City Girls,
Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat, Bronski Beat.
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.