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 Azerbaijan and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the 808 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 The Grass Roots to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Colin Newman,
Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thee Headcoats,
Tom Boy,
The Litter,
Hasil Adkins,
The Leaves,
Bush Tetras,
Sexual Harrassment,
Robert Hood,
Althea and Donna,
Public Enemy,
Lou Christie,
David Axelrod,
the Association,
Babytalk,
Wings,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
F. McDonald,
Chris Corsano,
Japan,
Brothers Johnson,
Livin' Joy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Funkadelic,
Q65,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Wally Richardson,
Joyce Sims,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Soft Cell,
Sun City Girls,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
World's Most,
Ponytail,
Vladislav Delay,
Echospace,
Excepter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Young Marble Giants,
Ohio Players,
A Certain Ratio,
Moby Grape,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Selecter,
Camberwell Now,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
Unrelated Segments,
DJ Style,
Hashim,
Amon Düül II,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aswad,
Simply Red,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.