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 Canada and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pop Group to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every L. Decosne 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Ornette Coleman,
John Holt,
EPMD,
Grey Daturas,
Lyres,
It's A Beautiful Day,
PIL,
Jeff Mills,
Jeff Lynne,
Mars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ossler,
Ken Boothe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ponytail,
Crash Course in Science,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric B and Rakim,
LL Cool J,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cluster,
The Smoke,
Ultimate Spinach,
Schoolly D,
Audionom,
The Toasters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Amazonics,
Bobby Byrd,
Kayak,
New Age Steppers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Boogie Down Productions,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stiv Bators,
Carl Craig,
Japan,
Boz Scaggs,
Todd Rundgren,
Dennis Brown,
Crime,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
ABC,
Hoover,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barrington Levy,
Mantronix,
Godley & Creme,
Silicon Teens,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Enemy,
Quadrant,
Kaleidoscope,
One Last Wish,
Blake Baxter,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.