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 St Lucia and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Neon Judgement,
The Gladiators,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marmalade,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Funky Four + One,
Suicide,
Dual Sessions,
The Saints,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Rapeman,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
T.S.O.L.,
Toni Rubio,
Minor Threat,
Lyres,
FM Einheit,
Qualms,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Deadbeat,
David McCallum,
The Durutti Column,
Goldenarms,
Rekid,
Wally Richardson,
Second Layer,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roger Hodgson,
cv313,
Das Ding,
Andrew Hill,
Lungfish,
Sun City Girls,
The Gap Band,
Skaos,
Matthew Bourne,
the Slits,
Ice-T,
Shoche,
Absolute Body Control,
Circle Jerks,
Pagans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Walker Brothers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wasted Youth,
The New Christs,
The Index,
a-ha,
June Days,
Jandek,
Gang Green,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Ronan,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.