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 East Timor and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 arpeggiator 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 Liliput to the dance 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Whodini,
June of 44,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doors,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wings,
Yusef Lateef,
OOIOO,
Alphaville,
X-Ray Spex,
Warsaw,
Basic Channel,
Crispian St. Peters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fugazi,
Mars,
R.M.O.,
Dawn Penn,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sly & The Family Stone,
A Certain Ratio,
Aaron Thompson,
Joe Finger,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moleskins,
Dark Day,
Maurizio,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Gladiators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Gun Club,
Mo-Dettes,
The American Breed,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rapeman,
Scientists,
Sex Pistols,
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
Yellowson,
The Fugs,
Clear Light,
Swans,
Kayak,
Skarface,
Johnny Clarke,
Desert Stars,
Gong,
Eric Dolphy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brand Nubian,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.