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 Kyrgyzstan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 David Bowie 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 Wire to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Sam Rivers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Section 25,
Bobby Byrd,
Au Pairs,
The Remains,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slits,
EPMD,
Cluster,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cramps,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott Heron,
Surgeon,
Clear Light,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Fania All-Stars,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
E-Dancer,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Coltrane,
Faraquet,
Girls At Our Best!,
Leonard Cohen,
Q65,
Gichy Dan,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Flamin' Groovies,
Moebius,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Gladiators,
The Smiths,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Amazonics,
Sun City Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Accadde A,
the Association,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fugazi,
Theoretical Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Agent Orange,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jacques Brel,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Swell Maps,
Agitation Free,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.