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 Grenada and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Donald Fagen 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 Mo-Dettes to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Alison Limerick,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus,
Juan Atkins,
Dave Gahan,
The Star Department,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Litter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Kaleidoscope,
Idris Muhammad,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wire,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lyres,
The Trojans,
the Bar-Kays,
L. Decosne,
Letta Mbulu,
Buzzcocks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Grey Daturas,
The Dead C,
Eden Ahbez,
Inner City,
Livin' Joy,
Piero Umiliani,
World's Most,
Laurel Aitken,
Gregory Isaacs,
Bluetip,
Sparks,
John Coltrane,
K-Klass,
Quadrant,
Zapp,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mandrill,
The Music Machine,
the Normal,
Steve Hackett,
Barrington Levy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Slick Rick,
The Slackers,
Marvin Gaye,
Crash Course in Science,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bob Dylan,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deakin,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
The Blues Magoos,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter and Kerry,
The Golliwogs,
Alice Coltrane,
Wasted Youth,
The Mojo Men,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.