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 Uruguay and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the dance 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Carl Craig,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Japan,
Minnie Riperton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Accadde A,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Connie Case,
Max Romeo,
Lou Reed,
Fugazi,
Iggy Pop,
The Durutti Column,
Eve St. Jones,
Deakin,
Tres Demented,
A Certain Ratio,
Brand Nubian,
The Knickerbockers,
Swell Maps,
Pantytec,
Lucky Dragons,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-Ray Spex,
Yazoo,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Golliwogs,
The Last Poets,
Silicon Teens,
Soulsonic Force,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Leonard Cohen,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ohio Players,
Tommy Roe,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sight & Sound,
Judy Mowatt,
Talk Talk,
The Mojo Men,
Goldenarms,
Bauhaus,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Fraelich,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Raincoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Junior Murvin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
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.