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 Uzbekistan and from Calgary.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rapeman to the electroclash 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pole,
the Bar-Kays,
Fear,
Fatback Band,
Black Pus,
Eve St. Jones,
Barbara Tucker,
E-Dancer,
LL Cool J,
Qualms,
Ornette Coleman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Warsaw,
a-ha,
Index,
The Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Radiohead,
New Order,
The Motions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nico,
The Gories,
Robert Görl,
Hoover,
The Mojo Men,
Ken Boothe,
Nik Kershaw,
Lakeside,
Soul Sonic Force,
Colin Newman,
Von Mondo,
Lungfish,
The Durutti Column,
Skaos,
Aaron Thompson,
Niagra,
Yusef Lateef,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mission of Burma,
Aural Exciters,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mad Mike,
The Standells,
Tom Boy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scientists,
The Zeros,
Dead Boys,
Camberwell Now,
Sister Nancy,
Crash Course in Science,
Bad Manners,
Harry Pussy,
Little Man,
Unwound,
Graham Central Station,
The Blues Magoos,
Blossom Toes,
Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product, Kas Product.
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.