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 Turkey and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Fifty Foot Hose to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Black Pus,
Pole,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fugazi,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yazoo,
The Vogues,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
Wire,
Fat Boys,
Sam Rivers,
In Retrospect,
Agitation Free,
The Modern Lovers,
Altered Images,
The Selecter,
Lucky Dragons,
Saccharine Trust,
Talk Talk,
Moebius,
Eric B and Rakim,
Amon Düül II,
Godley & Creme,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Patti Smith,
Icehouse,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Smiths,
E-Dancer,
Smog,
Susan Cadogan,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
OOIOO,
Tears for Fears,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cramps,
Arcadia,
Scion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Thee Headcoats,
Eli Mardock,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Quadrant,
Y Pants,
Magazine,
B.T. Express,
The Mummies,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Alphaville,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick May,
Maurizio,
The Birthday Party,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
David Axelrod,
Soul Sonic Force,
Simply Red,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.