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 Dominica and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sparks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Adolescents,
The Velvet Underground,
The Moleskins,
Newcleus,
MC5,
Mark Hollis,
Mr. Review,
Archie Shepp,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Busters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Todd Rundgren,
Rekid,
Peter and Kerry,
Hashim,
Con Funk Shun,
Donald Byrd,
B.T. Express,
Boz Scaggs,
The Martian,
World's Most,
Max Romeo,
Silicon Teens,
Sonic Youth,
Ponytail,
Charles Mingus,
The Star Department,
Intrusion,
Joe Finger,
Lou Reed,
The Real Kids,
The Cramps,
The Music Machine,
New Order,
Patti Smith,
MDC,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pulsallama,
FM Einheit,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
Royal Trux,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Black Pus,
X-101,
The Zeros,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Minor Threat,
H. Thieme,
Terry Callier,
Deakin,
Flash Fearless,
Chrome,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Fela Kuti,
Rapeman,
Jacques Brel,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, 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.