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 Algeria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare 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 Matthew Halsall to the punk 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
48th St. Collective,
Underground Resistance,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Juan Atkins,
The Fall,
Albert Ayler,
The Five Americans,
Black Sheep,
Bill Wells,
Cymande,
Bad Manners,
Idris Muhammad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neu!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Delon & Dalcan,
Wasted Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Cure,
Crooked Eye,
The Moleskins,
The Smiths,
In Retrospect,
The Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang of Four,
Massinfluence,
Liliput,
Suburban Knight,
New Order,
Susan Cadogan,
The Happenings,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Arab on Radar,
Roger Hodgson,
Chrome,
The Standells,
Scratch Acid,
Thee Headcoats,
Brass Construction,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Normal,
Trumans Water,
Roxy Music,
Mars,
David Bowie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Martian,
Depeche Mode,
The Searchers,
Lightning Bolt,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.