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 Macedonia and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Curtis Mayfield to the rap 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 Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Little Man,
Half Japanese,
Jerry's Kids,
Ituana,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pussy Galore,
Boredoms,
Matthew Halsall,
Kool Moe Dee,
UT,
Byron Stingily,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stiv Bators,
The Slits,
Model 500,
Danielle Patucci,
Country Teasers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sixth Finger,
Make Up,
Minnie Riperton,
Royal Trux,
Aaron Thompson,
Warsaw,
Cymande,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
The Residents,
Minny Pops,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Dave Gahan,
Leonard Cohen,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wally Richardson,
Brand Nubian,
Faust,
The Cramps,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fela Kuti,
Procol Harum,
Funkadelic,
Laurel Aitken,
Buzzcocks,
Connie Case,
The Fuzztones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Alarm Clocks,
Iggy Pop,
Japan,
Roger Hodgson,
Eve St. Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pagans,
Prince Buster,
Ultravox,
The Grass Roots,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.