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 Uganda and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Toni Rubio to the grime 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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
One Last Wish,
Ituana,
Mr. Review,
Wire,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Charles Mingus,
Angry Samoans,
Negative Approach,
The Sonics,
Outsiders,
Suicide,
Hashim,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonic Youth,
Sällskapet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Quando Quango,
The Electric Prunes,
The Sound,
Moby Grape,
Section 25,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Scientists,
Icehouse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dave Gahan,
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
Boredoms,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Swans,
Ornette Coleman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Quadrant,
Peter and Kerry,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fatback Band,
Intrusion,
Robert Hood,
Massinfluence,
Henry Cow,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Angels of Light,
Skriet,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Howard Jones,
Juan Atkins,
The Barracudas,
Danielle Patucci,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Motions,
Qualms,
The Litter,
Rapeman,
Organ,
Judy Mowatt,
Ice-T,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.