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 Croatia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 the Human League to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fela Kuti,
The Leaves,
Joe Finger,
The Young Rascals,
Skaos,
Thompson Twins,
Jeff Lynne,
Kenny Larkin,
The Cowsills,
Wings,
Barbara Tucker,
Joy Division,
Scientists,
Monks,
Arthur Verocai,
Wasted Youth,
Morten Harket,
ABBA,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Underground Resistance,
DNA,
In Retrospect,
10cc,
Parry Music,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ludus,
Angry Samoans,
Marvin Gaye,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun Ra,
The Red Krayola,
Half Japanese,
Jandek,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
JFA,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mary Jane Girls,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Slackers,
Marmalade,
Monolake,
Surgeon,
The Buckinghams,
Moebius,
Sonic Youth,
E-Dancer,
Eli Mardock,
Drive Like Jehu,
New Age Steppers,
Lee Hazlewood,
One Last Wish,
The Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Franke,
Bobby Byrd,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.