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 Albania and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 Davy DMX to the techno 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bad Manners,
Anakelly,
Icehouse,
The Slackers,
Funky Four + One,
John Lydon,
Popol Vuh,
L. Decosne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Arthur Verocai,
Gregory Isaacs,
Unwound,
Half Japanese,
The Kinks,
Banda Bassotti,
The Standells,
The Moleskins,
Camouflage,
The Happenings,
Laurel Aitken,
Little Man,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Rundgren,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Au Pairs,
Organ,
Joe Finger,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wolf Eyes,
a-ha,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eurythmics,
The Index,
Moss Icon,
The Motions,
Minny Pops,
Terry Callier,
the Sonics,
DJ Sneak,
Carl Craig,
Barbara Tucker,
Shoche,
The Last Poets,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cecil Taylor,
The Angels of Light,
The J.B.'s,
Michelle Simonal,
Monks,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
The Golliwogs,
The Dirtbombs,
Dennis Brown,
The Cure,
Absolute Body Control,
R.M.O.,
Deepchord,
The Smoke,
Minor Threat,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.