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 Romania and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the grunge 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Blossom Toes,
Mad Mike,
the Swans,
Ken Boothe,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Zapp,
DJ Sneak,
The Fall,
Mandrill,
LL Cool J,
Y Pants,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Gang of Four,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Bananas,
Second Layer,
The Happenings,
Panda Bear,
The Buckinghams,
Icehouse,
Radiohead,
Negative Approach,
Agent Orange,
Ornette Coleman,
Scientists,
Reagan Youth,
Patti Smith,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jawbox,
Siglo XX,
Animal Collective,
a-ha,
The Cure,
The Moody Blues,
Soulsonic Force,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Connie Case,
The Invisible,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Model 500,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camouflage,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ludus,
Oblivians,
Desert Stars,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
Scion,
Crash Course in Science,
Yaz,
Kurtis Blow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Donny Hathaway,
Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Slits,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.