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 Colombia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 LL Cool J to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dead C,
Suburban Knight,
H. Thieme,
the Association,
Iggy Pop,
Zero Boys,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roger Hodgson,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore,
Marc Almond,
The Raincoats,
Arab on Radar,
Connie Case,
Infiniti,
Ituana,
Radiohead,
Bad Manners,
June Days,
Bizarre Inc.,
New Order,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
Morten Harket,
The New Christs,
Animal Collective,
Blancmange,
T. Rex,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cluster,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Golliwogs,
Agent Orange,
the Germs,
Oneida,
Ten City,
DJ Style,
Faust,
Minor Threat,
Royal Trux,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Niagra,
Pantytec,
Nick Fraelich,
Warsaw,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Skatalites,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quando Quango,
Don Cherry,
Bronski Beat,
Dorothy Ashby,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kaleidoscope,
Pulsallama,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.