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 Slovakia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 Cluster to the funk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 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 Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
The Motions,
New Age Steppers,
Index,
ABBA,
Mad Mike,
John Lydon,
Ice-T,
Eli Mardock,
James White and The Blacks,
June of 44,
Deepchord,
Soulsonic Force,
Ten City,
Newcleus,
Agent Orange,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Reagan Youth,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Blues Magoos,
Thee Headcoats,
Suicide,
The Neon Judgement,
the Association,
Bill Wells,
MC5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Victims,
Banda Bassotti,
Audionom,
Gong,
The Red Krayola,
Lalann,
The Mummies,
The Wake,
Archie Shepp,
Stetsasonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fortunes,
Ornette Coleman,
Graham Central Station,
Kas Product,
Surgeon,
Tubeway Army,
Icehouse,
Vladislav Delay,
The Walker Brothers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Leonard Cohen,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Star Department,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Angels of Light,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
David Axelrod,
The Gun Club,
Pussy Galore,
The Smoke,
Todd Rundgren,
Radio Birdman,
Monks,
The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers, The Doobie Brothers.
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.