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 Saudi Arabia and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Soft Machine. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Bananas,
The Durutti Column,
The Leaves,
Silicon Teens,
Minny Pops,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lee Hazlewood,
Can,
Morten Harket,
the Association,
the Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
Lebanon Hanover,
Moby Grape,
Skriet,
The Last Poets,
The Mighty Diamonds,
JFA,
Fat Boys,
Alton Ellis,
The Fugs,
David Axelrod,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Severed Heads,
The Music Machine,
Adolescents,
These Immortal Souls,
PIL,
Mark Hollis,
Lightning Bolt,
Soft Machine,
Wire,
The Tremeloes,
Liliput,
The Standells,
Lakeside,
Lou Christie,
Davy DMX,
Gang Starr,
Mr. Review,
Pulsallama,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
Boredoms,
Tomorrow,
The Skatalites,
The Young Rascals,
Hoover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Desert Stars,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sun Ra,
Country Teasers,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.