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 Malawi and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Robert Palmer 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soulsonic Force,
Fluxion,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Eli Mardock,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lungfish,
Oblivians,
The Mighty Diamonds,
ABC,
Basic Channel,
Deakin,
The Grass Roots,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mo-Dettes,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Harry Pussy,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Move,
E-Dancer,
Camouflage,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash,
Don Cherry,
Gong,
Joey Negro,
L. Decosne,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Standells,
Liliput,
Cameo,
Brick,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eurythmics,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Alton Ellis,
The Leaves,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crash Course in Science,
Rekid,
Hot Snakes,
Magazine,
Radio Birdman,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Monks,
Crime,
Glenn Branca,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Infiniti,
Theoretical Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.