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 Uganda and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Soft Machine 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Dave Clark Five,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Lyres,
Rapeman,
Zero Boys,
Howard Jones,
The Index,
John Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
Procol Harum,
The Monks,
Sparks,
Funkadelic,
Young Marble Giants,
The Blackbyrds,
The Offenders,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Godley & Creme,
Yaz,
New Order,
Jandek,
The Busters,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Section 25,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Television Personalities,
The Victims,
Wally Richardson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Swans,
Crime,
MDC,
The Dirtbombs,
The Beau Brummels,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anthony Braxton,
Scientists,
Barry Ungar,
Youth Brigade,
The Cure,
Popol Vuh,
Chris Corsano,
The Mummies,
Amon Düül II,
Lindisfarne,
EPMD,
Monks,
Monolake,
Scan 7,
Nils Olav,
Sight & Sound,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Q and Not U,
Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy, Barrington Levy.
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.