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 Qatar and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rufus Thomas to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron 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 linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Ultravox,
Lindisfarne,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
Reuben Wilson,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Soft Machine,
The Kinks,
Brand Nubian,
Faust,
Lightning Bolt,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Cell,
The Moody Blues,
Quadrant,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Dawn Penn,
Q and Not U,
Supertramp,
Black Flag,
Los Fastidios,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thee Headcoats,
Bronski Beat,
Eurythmics,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Last Poets,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
T.S.O.L.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris & Cosey,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Freddie Wadling,
This Heat,
Animal Collective,
DJ Sneak,
Jeru the Damaja,
John Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ornette Coleman,
Scrapy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Don Cherry,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Adolescents,
Magma,
The Modern Lovers,
David Axelrod,
Urselle,
Ohio Players,
Sister Nancy,
The Velvet Underground,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.