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 Nepal and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the grunge 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Spoonie Gee,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Electric Prunes,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
Terrestrial Tones,
DNA,
Josef K,
Arab on Radar,
Whodini,
Arthur Verocai,
Henry Cow,
Rod Modell,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Birthday Party,
Delta 5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Connie Case,
Johnny Clarke,
Infiniti,
June of 44,
Erasure,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Harmonia,
Popol Vuh,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
The Saints,
Morten Harket,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maleditus Sound,
Hardrive,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Angels of Light,
Deakin,
LL Cool J,
L. Decosne,
Jacob Miller,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
Darondo,
The Fugs,
the Germs,
Blake Baxter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
David Bowie,
The Fire Engines,
Kas Product,
Technova,
CMW,
Trumans Water,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.