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 Djibouti and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Anthony Braxton to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
Lightning Bolt,
Mars,
The Cure,
Royal Trux,
Nirvana,
Connie Case,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Martian,
Icehouse,
Zero Boys,
a-ha,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sound,
Television,
Cal Tjader,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-102,
Colin Newman,
Sight & Sound,
Banda Bassotti,
The Divine Comedy,
Cecil Taylor,
Magazine,
The Names,
Byron Stingily,
Steve Hackett,
The Modern Lovers,
Porter Ricks,
Alison Limerick,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Skatalites,
Glenn Branca,
Jacques Brel,
Interpol,
Gang Gang Dance,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
Q and Not U,
Mark Hollis,
Bobby Byrd,
Deadbeat,
Guru Guru,
H. Thieme,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bush Tetras,
Section 25,
Hashim,
Aswad,
The Moleskins,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ludus,
Bootsy Collins,
Isaac Hayes,
Yellowson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Standells,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.