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 Morocco and from Beijing.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Techniques to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scott Walker,
The Tremeloes,
Bronski Beat,
Swans,
The Move,
Metal Thangz,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sixth Finger,
The Offenders,
Black Bananas,
Max Romeo,
Piero Umiliani,
Surgeon,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sight & Sound,
Fat Boys,
Half Japanese,
The Dave Clark Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
James White and The Blacks,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Fortunes,
Soulsonic Force,
The Birthday Party,
Scrapy,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Leaves,
The Slackers,
Marc Almond,
Groovy Waters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stereo Dub,
kango's stein massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Moss Icon,
Rotary Connection,
Robert Wyatt,
Man Parrish,
Rod Modell,
Underground Resistance,
Anakelly,
Derrick May,
B.T. Express,
Drexciya,
June of 44,
Eric Dolphy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joensuu 1685,
X-102,
The Searchers,
T. Rex,
Minor Threat,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.