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 Azerbaijan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar 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 Crooked Eye to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
K-Klass,
Monks,
Eli Mardock,
The Slits,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Smooth,
Wasted Youth,
Morten Harket,
the Swans,
Jawbox,
B.T. Express,
Fad Gadget,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare,
The Real Kids,
Dark Day,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pulsallama,
Eden Ahbez,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Golliwogs,
Aswad,
Althea and Donna,
Drive Like Jehu,
Clear Light,
Rufus Thomas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Graham Central Station,
The Fugs,
ABC,
Essential Logic,
the Human League,
Funkadelic,
Von Mondo,
Parry Music,
The Cure,
Dennis Brown,
Easy Going,
Au Pairs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Pylon,
Jeff Mills,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Wake,
Crispy Ambulance,
Quando Quango,
Carl Craig,
Sound Behaviour,
Gregory Isaacs,
Swans,
Faust,
Judy Mowatt,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.