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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Slick Rick to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Reuben Wilson,
The Martian,
Rod Modell,
Maleditus Sound,
Loose Ends,
Nation of Ulysses,
Monks,
Amon Düül II,
Yellowson,
Soul II Soul,
Lou Reed,
Black Pus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Banda Bassotti,
Deepchord,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
Graham Central Station,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
James White and The Blacks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barry Ungar,
Piero Umiliani,
Monolake,
Accadde A,
John Cale,
Johnny Clarke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shuggie Otis,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Slits,
Radiopuhelimet,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Little Man,
Theoretical Girls,
Pussy Galore,
The Dead C,
Dark Day,
Slick Rick,
Saccharine Trust,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ohio Players,
Frankie Knuckles,
Blake Baxter,
PIL,
Young Marble Giants,
Massinfluence,
Carl Craig,
Intrusion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Althea and Donna,
Subhumans,
Royal Trux,
Scrapy,
Aloha Tigers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.