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 St Lucia and from New York.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 The Grass Roots to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Boredoms,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fad Gadget,
Suburban Knight,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sex Pistols,
Porter Ricks,
World's Most,
Matthew Bourne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
John Holt,
Arthur Verocai,
Yusef Lateef,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
New York Dolls,
Bob Dylan,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
Model 500,
Inner City,
John Foxx,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ludus,
Rekid,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vladislav Delay,
Juan Atkins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Country Teasers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mark Hollis,
Roxette,
Drexciya,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Funky Four + One,
Radiohead,
Alison Limerick,
Matthew Halsall,
Fort Wilson Riot,
David McCallum,
Parry Music,
The Techniques,
The Music Machine,
Quadrant,
The Beau Brummels,
Rosa Yemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Cure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Yaz,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.