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 Albania and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Cybotron to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gun Club,
Gang of Four,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
K-Klass,
The Misunderstood,
Lungfish,
The Index,
X-102,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Grey Daturas,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scott Walker,
Letta Mbulu,
Talk Talk,
Tomorrow,
Hoover,
Eli Mardock,
The Fortunes,
The Move,
Pere Ubu,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rekid,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Loose Ends,
Nick Fraelich,
10cc,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chris Corsano,
The Dead C,
Gerry Rafferty,
Barry Ungar,
Roxy Music,
Eurythmics,
Sam Rivers,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Womack,
Alison Limerick,
JFA,
Black Moon,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Bourne,
Cymande,
Spandau Ballet,
The Velvet Underground,
Leonard Cohen,
the Slits,
The Techniques,
The Litter,
Y Pants,
Mark Hollis,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.