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 Morocco and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 Pussy Galore 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Rosa Yemen,
Avey Tare,
Roger Hodgson,
Albert Ayler,
The Dead C,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Todd Terry,
Sight & Sound,
Scott Walker,
Mr. Review,
Skriet,
Matthew Halsall,
Dave Gahan,
The Misunderstood,
Eddi Front,
The United States of America,
Oneida,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gap Band,
Wally Richardson,
The Saints,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Durutti Column,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fire Engines,
Delta 5,
Circle Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Human League,
The Cowsills,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Darondo,
Pagans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Camberwell Now,
Sister Nancy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hashim,
Rapeman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Little Man,
The Skatalites,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
Iggy Pop,
Yellowson,
John Coltrane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Howard Jones,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Golliwogs,
Eurythmics,
a-ha,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.