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 Singapore and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Pussy Galore to the rap 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronnie Foster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Smoke,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
Don Cherry,
Blancmange,
Al Stewart,
Scrapy,
Camouflage,
Arthur Verocai,
Grey Daturas,
Franke,
Derrick May,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brand Nubian,
Prince Buster,
Minny Pops,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Spandau Ballet,
Agitation Free,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Hardrive,
Ornette Coleman,
Bauhaus,
Tomorrow,
The Gladiators,
Qualms,
Faraquet,
Crooked Eye,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Second Layer,
the Association,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra,
The Trojans,
Ituana,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Sparks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Livin' Joy,
The Cure,
Funkadelic,
The Associates,
Barry Ungar,
Donald Byrd,
Siglo XX,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Underground Resistance,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reuben Wilson,
The Walker Brothers,
Anakelly,
Pere Ubu,
Robert Görl,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.