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 San Marino and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Joe Smooth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camberwell Now record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Trumans Water,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
The Golliwogs,
Theoretical Girls,
Ituana,
The Black Dice,
The Smiths,
Dark Day,
Vainqueur,
Popol Vuh,
Andrew Hill,
The Zeros,
Youth Brigade,
Hashim,
Reuben Wilson,
The Gun Club,
Ronnie Foster,
Sparks,
Harry Pussy,
Lightning Bolt,
Swans,
Kerri Chandler,
Barrington Levy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Moon,
Ultimate Spinach,
U.S. Maple,
Agent Orange,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Todd Rundgren,
David Bowie,
Robert Görl,
The Trojans,
The Gories,
Franke,
Marmalade,
Soulsonic Force,
Radiohead,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Litter,
Marine Girls,
Kerrie Biddell,
Nico,
Model 500,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lower 48,
Darondo,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Ohio Players,
Eddi Front,
D'Angelo,
Mr. Review,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.