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 South Sudan and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 the Association to the grime 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Mojo Men record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
Donald Byrd,
Trumans Water,
Connie Case,
DJ Style,
Lower 48,
The Vogues,
Stereo Dub,
Thompson Twins,
Quando Quango,
Malaria!,
The Zeros,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Görl,
Avey Tare,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Human League,
Smog,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Christie,
June Days,
Hot Snakes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yellowson,
Technova,
Chrome,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sister Nancy,
Q65,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
Hardrive,
Index,
Alison Limerick,
John Coltrane,
Hasil Adkins,
Goldenarms,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Selecter,
Dark Day,
The Evens,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Althea and Donna,
Nils Olav,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bauhaus,
The Velvet Underground,
New York Dolls,
Neil Young,
Circle Jerks,
The Searchers,
ABC,
The Angels of Light,
The Young Rascals,
A Certain Ratio,
The Monochrome Set,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Fuzztones,
kango's stein massive,
Oneida,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.