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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Cameo to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep 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?
Siglo XX,
Soft Machine,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
B.T. Express,
Piero Umiliani,
Patti Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Zapp,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deepchord,
Wire,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
Henry Cow,
Sparks,
Ornette Coleman,
Slick Rick,
Silicon Teens,
Rufus Thomas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Y Pants,
Spandau Ballet,
The Count Five,
the Bar-Kays,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Green,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Supertramp,
Marine Girls,
Radiohead,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Reed,
cv313,
The Moleskins,
The Star Department,
Suicide,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gories,
Adolescents,
DJ Style,
A Certain Ratio,
David Bowie,
Simply Red,
The Grass Roots,
John Cale,
Don Cherry,
X-102,
Accadde A,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Remains,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Theoretical Girls,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.