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 United States and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
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 linndrum 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 The Standells to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Charles Mingus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Mojo Men,
T.S.O.L.,
The Evens,
10cc,
Erasure,
Ronan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Throbbing Gristle,
Symarip,
D'Angelo,
Los Fastidios,
Ornette Coleman,
Aswad,
The Modern Lovers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minnie Riperton,
MDC,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Talk Talk,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sixth Finger,
Porter Ricks,
Spandau Ballet,
Rapeman,
Marine Girls,
Robert Görl,
Depeche Mode,
Eve St. Jones,
New Order,
The Saints,
Iggy Pop,
R.M.O.,
The Happenings,
Gastr Del Sol,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
Buzzcocks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Soft Machine,
Archie Shepp,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Womack,
The Stooges,
Anakelly,
Radio Birdman,
Agent Orange,
Eli Mardock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Procol Harum,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gories,
Barbara Tucker,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.