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 Cameroon and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro 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 Albert Ayler to the punk 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Barry Ungar,
Agitation Free,
Hoover,
Sällskapet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Joe Finger,
Lindisfarne,
The Doors,
Trumans Water,
The Black Dice,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Howard Jones,
Suburban Knight,
the Human League,
The Count Five,
Japan,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gladiators,
The Cramps,
The Monks,
Masters at Work,
Schoolly D,
Toni Rubio,
Skriet,
Young Marble Giants,
John Foxx,
Pussy Galore,
ABC,
Massinfluence,
Neil Young,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bronski Beat,
Mandrill,
Ronnie Foster,
Y Pants,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Joy Division,
Eurythmics,
The Tremeloes,
Eve St. Jones,
Erasure,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moebius,
Minnie Riperton,
Theoretical Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Five Americans,
Crooked Eye,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Names,
Ronan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jesper Dahlback,
B.T. Express,
Black Sheep,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.