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 Samoa and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Scrapy to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minor Threat,
Funkadelic,
Mission of Burma,
Brand Nubian,
Schoolly D,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Althea and Donna,
Popol Vuh,
Pantaleimon,
Magazine,
Agent Orange,
Stetsasonic,
Moby Grape,
The Real Kids,
Inner City,
R.M.O.,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mad Mike,
Archie Shepp,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Depeche Mode,
Jimmy McGriff,
Leonard Cohen,
Make Up,
Suburban Knight,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jerry's Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
Grandmaster Flash,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Crash Course in Science,
Hot Snakes,
K-Klass,
Nas,
June of 44,
Icehouse,
T. Rex,
Rosa Yemen,
Vainqueur,
Janne Schatter,
Rekid,
Monks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Funky Four + One,
The Wake,
Alice Coltrane,
Sun Ra,
Erasure,
Quantec,
Marc Almond,
Bobby Byrd,
La Düsseldorf,
8 Eyed Spy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brothers Johnson,
Tubeway Army,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.