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 El Salvador and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Detroit Cobras to the techno 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Negative Approach,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Wyatt,
Buzzcocks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics,
Bush Tetras,
The Angels of Light,
Hot Snakes,
Can,
The Victims,
The American Breed,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Residents,
Infiniti,
Peter and Kerry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Womack,
D'Angelo,
8 Eyed Spy,
CMW,
Slave,
Fela Kuti,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eve St. Jones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Throbbing Gristle,
Susan Cadogan,
Matthew Bourne,
Rod Modell,
Surgeon,
Robert Hood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Copeland,
The Five Americans,
Morten Harket,
The Fugs,
John Foxx,
The Motions,
Swans,
Pierre Henry,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ludus,
The Happenings,
Ituana,
Visage,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
Shuggie Otis,
Chris Corsano,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nirvana,
Royal Trux,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
The Dead C,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Dual Sessions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.