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 Montenegro and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Erasure to the crunk 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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Black Pus,
Fat Boys,
the Slits,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fela Kuti,
Kaleidoscope,
David Bowie,
Bobby Womack,
Gong,
Sun City Girls,
Cal Tjader,
Donny Hathaway,
Schoolly D,
the Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
Bobby Sherman,
The Residents,
The Tremeloes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Colin Newman,
Groovy Waters,
Second Layer,
Kerri Chandler,
The Litter,
The Martian,
FM Einheit,
Slave,
The Mojo Men,
Chris & Cosey,
Jeff Mills,
The Move,
Guru Guru,
Infiniti,
Nirvana,
Sun Ra,
The Dirtbombs,
The Raincoats,
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
Make Up,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lebanon Hanover,
Young Marble Giants,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Henry Cow,
the Germs,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Graham Central Station,
Smog,
Mantronix,
Kurtis Blow,
Al Stewart,
Franke,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Piero Umiliani,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.