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 Ecuador and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Roxette to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Mad Mike,
China Crisis,
The Victims,
The Evens,
Pierre Henry,
Marvin Gaye,
X-101,
Dorothy Ashby,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
The Gun Club,
Warsaw,
Hardrive,
Cybotron,
Guru Guru,
Smog,
Pylon,
Joe Smooth,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Busters,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minny Pops,
Qualms,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lou Reed,
World's Most,
The Doors,
Ultra Naté,
Sister Nancy,
Ludus,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hasil Adkins,
Organ,
Interpol,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Procol Harum,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jacques Brel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Cure,
The Move,
Eli Mardock,
Kevin Saunderson,
Carl Craig,
Minnie Riperton,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MC5,
F. McDonald,
Circle Jerks,
The Real Kids,
Pantaleimon,
The Count Five,
Mission of Burma,
Mr. Review,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.