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 Jordan and from Hong Kong.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Desert Stars to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Groovy Waters. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 snare and a theremin 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 güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 J.B.'s,
Thompson Twins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roger Hodgson,
The Blues Magoos,
Fear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flash Fearless,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Marmalade,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stereo Dub,
Saccharine Trust,
Kenny Larkin,
Andrew Hill,
Terry Callier,
Khruangbin,
Letta Mbulu,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
T.S.O.L.,
Minnie Riperton,
Scott Walker,
Roxette,
The Searchers,
Outsiders,
Stiv Bators,
Visage,
David McCallum,
Gang Green,
Tres Demented,
Neu!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soulsonic Force,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
MDC,
Half Japanese,
Camberwell Now,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Adolescents,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Matthew Halsall,
Maurizio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Matthew Bourne,
Ken Boothe,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
Faust,
Oblivians,
Blancmange,
Mad Mike,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
E-Dancer,
Panda Bear,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scrapy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Piero Umiliani,
Ten City,
Metal Thangz,
The Fortunes,
Desert Stars,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.