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 Algeria and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 J.B.'s to the rap 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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All The Chocolate Watch Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
Silicon Teens,
Iggy Pop,
Eli Mardock,
Goldenarms,
Jawbox,
Stiv Bators,
Todd Terry,
John Coltrane,
Stetsasonic,
Aaron Thompson,
Loose Ends,
Rotary Connection,
Ronnie Foster,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ronan,
Pylon,
Masters at Work,
Hasil Adkins,
Henry Cow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
MDC,
Das Ding,
Mantronix,
Arab on Radar,
The Fugs,
The Gun Club,
Essential Logic,
Don Cherry,
Rufus Thomas,
Scrapy,
Lalann,
Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Average White Band,
the Human League,
48th St. Collective,
Pussy Galore,
Aural Exciters,
Marvin Gaye,
Judy Mowatt,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Normal,
The Smiths,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Seeds,
Jandek,
OOIOO,
Dual Sessions,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Althea and Donna,
Ossler,
Yaz,
Agitation Free,
Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash, Grandmaster Flash.
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.