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 San Marino and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 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 Kool Moe Dee to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Swans,
Juan Atkins,
Matthew Halsall,
D'Angelo,
K-Klass,
Mo-Dettes,
T.S.O.L.,
Erasure,
Oneida,
Black Bananas,
Rapeman,
the Bar-Kays,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Arab on Radar,
Bad Manners,
The Detroit Cobras,
Icehouse,
the Sonics,
Crime,
John Foxx,
Sight & Sound,
Kurtis Blow,
Fat Boys,
MC5,
Arthur Verocai,
Janne Schatter,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Young Rascals,
Easy Going,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mars,
Crash Course in Science,
Sister Nancy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Adolescents,
The Doors,
Jacob Miller,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Count Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kaleidoscope,
Bill Near,
The Vogues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Khruangbin,
Hot Snakes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Knickerbockers,
Wire,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Visage,
Andrew Hill,
Wally Richardson,
Dave Gahan,
The Dead C,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.