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 Guatemala and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kerri Chandler to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 cv313. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Beau Brummels,
Buzzcocks,
Aaron Thompson,
Altered Images,
Supertramp,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bronski Beat,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Al Stewart,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Offenders,
Bootsy Collins,
Rod Modell,
The Happenings,
Prince Buster,
The Names,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Nico,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marmalade,
Jeff Lynne,
The Birthday Party,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blossom Toes,
The Smoke,
Unwound,
Lyres,
Rapeman,
Sister Nancy,
Archie Shepp,
The Invisible,
Ultra Naté,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Guru Guru,
Ohio Players,
New Order,
The Busters,
Nas,
Alice Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
Iggy Pop,
Deepchord,
Sparks,
Echospace,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Amon Düül,
Average White Band,
Roy Ayers,
Matthew Bourne,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.