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 Australia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bill Near to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gun Club,
JFA,
Joy Division,
DNA,
Japan,
ABC,
Dave Gahan,
Barry Ungar,
F. McDonald,
Matthew Halsall,
Fad Gadget,
Black Bananas,
Procol Harum,
Heaven 17,
Byron Stingily,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sexual Harrassment,
FM Einheit,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Martian,
Quantec,
Nas,
Quadrant,
Q and Not U,
Eurythmics,
Anakelly,
Pierre Henry,
The Names,
Jacques Brel,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Vogues,
Los Fastidios,
Aloha Tigers,
CMW,
Black Flag,
OOIOO,
Hasil Adkins,
Bob Dylan,
John Foxx,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lightning Bolt,
Pussy Galore,
Todd Terry,
Scion,
Bobby Womack,
LL Cool J,
Bill Near,
Barbara Tucker,
Thompson Twins,
Fela Kuti,
Visage,
Joensuu 1685,
Sonny Sharrock,
Matthew Bourne,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Desert Stars,
John Coltrane,
The Litter,
Easy Going,
Lalann,
Thee Headcoats,
Pagans,
Gabor Szabo,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.