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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 kango's stein massive to the punk 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
Lou Christie,
Depeche Mode,
Colin Newman,
The Last Poets,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dave Gahan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sex Pistols,
DNA,
Spandau Ballet,
Barbara Tucker,
Whodini,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Ten City,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
Jerry's Kids,
The Martian,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
L. Decosne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harmonia,
Bobby Sherman,
The Busters,
Mark Hollis,
Idris Muhammad,
Camberwell Now,
Rhythm & Sound,
Unrelated Segments,
Massinfluence,
The Offenders,
Guru Guru,
In Retrospect,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
Kayak,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang Green,
Girls At Our Best!,
Josef K,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
cv313,
The Standells,
Gil Scott Heron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tears for Fears,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
The Moody Blues,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mummies,
Radio Birdman,
Grauzone,
Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne, Matthew Bourne.
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.