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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Sherman,
Das Ding,
Public Image Ltd.,
Au Pairs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roger Hodgson,
Electric Prunes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mo-Dettes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Can,
Lower 48,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Stockholm Monsters,
These Immortal Souls,
Frankie Knuckles,
Siglo XX,
The Tremeloes,
Minnie Riperton,
Model 500,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
Swell Maps,
Rod Modell,
Visage,
Ludus,
Kurtis Blow,
Pere Ubu,
Inner City,
Arab on Radar,
Con Funk Shun,
Agitation Free,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Shuggie Otis,
Bobbi Humphrey,
8 Eyed Spy,
kango's stein massive,
Yellowson,
Clear Light,
Eddi Front,
Lou Christie,
H. Thieme,
Franke,
Lindisfarne,
Blake Baxter,
Gabor Szabo,
Glenn Branca,
Echospace,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moleskins,
the Slits,
Barry Ungar,
The Index,
Avey Tare,
The Vogues,
ABBA,
Spandau Ballet,
Stetsasonic,
Circle Jerks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tropical Tobacco,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.