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 Uruguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 oboe 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grime 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Sugar Minott,
Circle Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Drexciya,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aural Exciters,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Minutemen,
Jacques Brel,
PIL,
Grandmaster Flash,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Albert Ayler,
Gang of Four,
Ten City,
The Grass Roots,
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispian St. Peters,
Minny Pops,
Make Up,
Quantec,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Henry Cow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scion,
Chrome,
Underground Resistance,
The Motions,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The United States of America,
The Remains,
Slave,
Whodini,
Charles Mingus,
AZ,
Joe Finger,
John Foxx,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Wells,
Arcadia,
Trumans Water,
Lungfish,
Joey Negro,
Japan,
Pierre Henry,
Andrew Hill,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lee Hazlewood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy, The Peanut Butter Conspiracy.
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.