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 Bangladesh and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Delhi.
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 chamberlin 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 Thee Headcoats to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Martian,
The Golliwogs,
Swell Maps,
Alison Limerick,
Rod Modell,
June Days,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funky Four + One,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Sherman,
Main Source,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dead Boys,
Mars,
Sparks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul II Soul,
The Skatalites,
Eric B and Rakim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Model 500,
The Litter,
Bill Near,
Boogie Down Productions,
Marc Almond,
UT,
The Searchers,
Accadde A,
Todd Terry,
Nirvana,
48th St. Collective,
Slick Rick,
Half Japanese,
Amon Düül,
Patti Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wally Richardson,
Oneida,
Sonic Youth,
Lightning Bolt,
Make Up,
The Mummies,
The Moody Blues,
MDC,
Camouflage,
The Dirtbombs,
Davy DMX,
Trumans Water,
Faraquet,
Flipper,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Joy Division,
Technova,
Max Romeo,
James White and The Blacks,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.