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 Indonesia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar 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 Urselle to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Model 500,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Y Pants,
Rites of Spring,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cluster,
Skriet,
Yazoo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
The Skatalites,
Ituana,
Erasure,
The Techniques,
Cal Tjader,
Rapeman,
Sex Pistols,
Underground Resistance,
Youth Brigade,
Skaos,
Janne Schatter,
Unrelated Segments,
Delta 5,
Black Sheep,
the Association,
Pere Ubu,
New Age Steppers,
Byron Stingily,
Popol Vuh,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Germs,
Cameo,
The Gun Club,
Joy Division,
Section 25,
Young Marble Giants,
Blossom Toes,
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
The Motions,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Groovy Waters,
Yaz,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Juan Atkins,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wings,
Kaleidoscope,
Vainqueur,
T. Rex,
Archie Shepp,
Cymande,
The Velvet Underground,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skarface,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Music Machine,
John Foxx,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.