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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Animal Collective to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Cameo,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
Arab on Radar,
Los Fastidios,
Bootsy Collins,
Wings,
Suburban Knight,
Henry Cow,
Lindisfarne,
Mary Jane Girls,
Magazine,
The Blackbyrds,
David McCallum,
Average White Band,
Aural Exciters,
Simply Red,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Skriet,
Susan Cadogan,
The Buckinghams,
Goldenarms,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Black Bananas,
New Order,
Dual Sessions,
Deadbeat,
Sugar Minott,
Unrelated Segments,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
The Smiths,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
Duran Duran,
Soul II Soul,
Circle Jerks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Count Five,
The Index,
The Electric Prunes,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
Essential Logic,
Joe Finger,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Stooges,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sun City Girls,
The Music Machine,
Talk Talk,
Scratch Acid,
UT,
Lakeside,
Flash Fearless,
Black Sheep,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crispy Ambulance,
Crime,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.