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 Seychelles and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 D'Angelo to the crunk 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Rod Modell,
Man Eating Sloth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lightning Bolt,
David Bowie,
Con Funk Shun,
Graham Central Station,
Henry Cow,
Deepchord,
The Move,
Barbara Tucker,
The Barracudas,
Severed Heads,
The Moleskins,
Anthony Braxton,
Camberwell Now,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Section 25,
Drexciya,
Alison Limerick,
Oneida,
Make Up,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young,
Basic Channel,
Marc Almond,
Rotary Connection,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Spandau Ballet,
Nico,
Soft Cell,
Sparks,
a-ha,
The Slits,
The Associates,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
CMW,
Bush Tetras,
Flash Fearless,
The Saints,
Prince Buster,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pantytec,
Quantec,
Boz Scaggs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joy Division,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dorothy Ashby,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry's Kids,
Joyce Sims,
the Association,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roxette,
Sun Ra,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.