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 East Timor and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 David Axelrod to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Juan Atkins,
Sound Behaviour,
Blake Baxter,
Lou Christie,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
CMW,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sound,
Yellowson,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Standells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Last Poets,
James White and The Blacks,
the Slits,
Dead Boys,
The Associates,
World's Most,
Nico,
Absolute Body Control,
Albert Ayler,
Pere Ubu,
The Gladiators,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pole,
Godley & Creme,
Vainqueur,
Fad Gadget,
Kerrie Biddell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Soft Machine,
Hashim,
The Real Kids,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boredoms,
The Names,
Schoolly D,
Newcleus,
KRS-One,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Josef K,
Excepter,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Green,
Subhumans,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Angels of Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Cal Tjader,
Rosa Yemen,
Khruangbin,
Deepchord,
Nation of Ulysses,
The J.B.'s,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.