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 Armenia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 theremin 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 Moebius to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Infiniti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Tremeloes,
the Germs,
Mantronix,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pole,
In Retrospect,
Hasil Adkins,
Scientists,
Bill Wells,
Derrick Morgan,
Pet Shop Boys,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Saints,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pierre Henry,
The Dirtbombs,
Schoolly D,
Main Source,
Delon & Dalcan,
Gong,
Second Layer,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Isaac Hayes,
Buzzcocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minny Pops,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Liliput,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brick,
The Fortunes,
Smog,
Ohio Players,
Absolute Body Control,
Amazonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Carl Craig,
Barrington Levy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Chris Corsano,
Suicide,
The Remains,
The Misunderstood,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Outsiders,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Livin' Joy,
Morten Harket,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
Kevin Saunderson,
Deakin,
Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish, Country Joe & The Fish.
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.