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 Manchester.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Black Pus to the grime 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Warren Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The American Breed,
The Cramps,
Jimmy McGriff,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Arthur Verocai,
Youth Brigade,
Ten City,
Swell Maps,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drive Like Jehu,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Albert Ayler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Soulsonic Force,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dead Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
K-Klass,
MDC,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry's Kids,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maurizio,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
Eric B and Rakim,
R.M.O.,
L. Decosne,
Lungfish,
Visage,
China Crisis,
The Pretty Things,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
Loose Ends,
Stereo Dub,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eurythmics,
Flash Fearless,
Barry Ungar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Tim Buckley,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rod Modell,
the Association,
Ronan,
Alison Limerick,
The Names,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Pus,
The Walker Brothers,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.