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 Slovenia and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 DJ Sneak to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Bourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
The Cramps,
The Victims,
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Busters,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
Reuben Wilson,
Fat Boys,
Spandau Ballet,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Max Romeo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Dennis Brown,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Count Five,
The Slits,
Lalo Schifrin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Animal Collective,
Little Man,
F. McDonald,
Young Marble Giants,
Visage,
Lindisfarne,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fall,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Deepchord,
The Martian,
Connie Case,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Starr,
Johnny Clarke,
The Standells,
Lower 48,
Rekid,
X-Ray Spex,
U.S. Maple,
Black Pus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Joe Smooth,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
The Misunderstood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Swans,
The Electric Prunes,
Aural Exciters,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick Morgan,
Scientists,
Sexual Harrassment,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Womack,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.