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 Moldova and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 New Christs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Ten City,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerrie Biddell,
June of 44,
Stiv Bators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eric Dolphy,
The United States of America,
Aaron Thompson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Little Man,
Babytalk,
Glenn Branca,
Index,
T.S.O.L.,
New York Dolls,
Negative Approach,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Buckinghams,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
The Five Americans,
Q65,
Los Fastidios,
Ice-T,
James White and The Blacks,
T. Rex,
Pylon,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Half Japanese,
Essential Logic,
The Human League,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Toasters,
Slave,
Faraquet,
Whodini,
Altered Images,
Simply Red,
Sight & Sound,
The Cure,
The Seeds,
World's Most,
Absolute Body Control,
The Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Yellowson,
Moebius,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Groovy Waters,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
H. Thieme,
Ohio Players,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.