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 Botswana and from Mexico City.
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 Mexico City and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jacob Miller to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Letta Mbulu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
The Buckinghams,
Harmonia,
Magazine,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Holt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Technova,
Barrington Levy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Alison Limerick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Funky Four + One,
China Crisis,
New Order,
MC5,
The Fugs,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Cybotron,
E-Dancer,
Depeche Mode,
Bad Manners,
This Heat,
David Axelrod,
The Associates,
James White and The Blacks,
Hoover,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Monochrome Set,
The Blues Magoos,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crash Course in Science,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Albert Ayler,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
Pylon,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
Connie Case,
Cameo,
Carl Craig,
Popol Vuh,
Harpers Bizarre,
AZ,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Todd Terry,
Rod Modell,
Eric Dolphy,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Happenings,
The Blackbyrds,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ornette Coleman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Goldenarms,
Amon Düül II,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.