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 Korea South and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Patti Smith to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Harry Pussy,
Bobby Byrd,
John Lydon,
Sound Behaviour,
Bobby Womack,
Bizarre Inc.,
Arcadia,
Marmalade,
Bush Tetras,
The Tremeloes,
Bronski Beat,
OOIOO,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Blake Baxter,
Stiv Bators,
The Angels of Light,
T. Rex,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonny Sharrock,
R.M.O.,
Jerry's Kids,
Shoche,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Janne Schatter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Remains,
Reuben Wilson,
Gang of Four,
Buzzcocks,
Fatback Band,
Idris Muhammad,
The Monks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Fear,
The Associates,
Stetsasonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Metal Thangz,
Frankie Knuckles,
Porter Ricks,
Ten City,
the Association,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
a-ha,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Yellowson,
Juan Atkins,
The Blues Magoos,
Barclay James Harvest,
Terrestrial Tones,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
The Human League,
Steve Hackett,
Bob Dylan,
The New Christs,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.