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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Holger Czukay 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Gong,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eric B and Rakim,
CMW,
Tres Demented,
Sound Behaviour,
June Days,
Electric Prunes,
Masters at Work,
Blossom Toes,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Siglo XX,
The Neon Judgement,
Scott Walker,
The Buckinghams,
Jacques Brel,
Morten Harket,
Index,
Danielle Patucci,
T. Rex,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stetsasonic,
Fad Gadget,
The Wake,
The Monochrome Set,
Mantronix,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bronski Beat,
Judy Mowatt,
Maurizio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Leonard Cohen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Albert Ayler,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brick,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
The Smiths,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys,
Agent Orange,
Barrington Levy,
The Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
cv313,
John Lydon,
The Slackers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Busters,
Unrelated Segments,
the Fania All-Stars,
B.T. Express,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.