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 Suriname and from Beijing.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 Pharoah Sanders to the dance 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Boredoms,
The Gap Band,
Underground Resistance,
the Sonics,
Skaos,
In Retrospect,
The Vogues,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
Loose Ends,
Con Funk Shun,
Howard Jones,
Brass Construction,
The Knickerbockers,
Simply Red,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Subhumans,
Sun Ra,
Toni Rubio,
Banda Bassotti,
Sandy B,
The Monochrome Set,
Sparks,
The Residents,
The Busters,
Arcadia,
Eric Copeland,
The Slackers,
The Gun Club,
Clear Light,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Amon Düül II,
FM Einheit,
Tom Boy,
Gang of Four,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
Tres Demented,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Neon Judgement,
JFA,
The Victims,
Ituana,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
Juan Atkins,
Masters at Work,
Robert Hood,
Audionom,
Radio Birdman,
U.S. Maple,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Babytalk,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.