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 Ethiopia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the crunk 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
The Tremeloes,
Flash Fearless,
Funky Four + One,
Symarip,
Cal Tjader,
Bush Tetras,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
The Birthday Party,
Jacques Brel,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Camouflage,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pulsallama,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jandek,
Intrusion,
Smog,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roger Hodgson,
The Offenders,
Technova,
Country Teasers,
T.S.O.L.,
The Smiths,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Blues Magoos,
Make Up,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brass Construction,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Velvet Underground,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Residents,
Carl Craig,
Easy Going,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Y Pants,
Laurel Aitken,
Sixth Finger,
James White and The Blacks,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wire,
Ken Boothe,
Royal Trux,
The Dave Clark Five,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Zeros,
X-Ray Spex,
Mo-Dettes,
Glenn Branca,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.