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 Pakistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 Pantytec to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacob Miller record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
T.S.O.L.,
Kaleidoscope,
One Last Wish,
The Busters,
Oneida,
The Last Poets,
Television Personalities,
Susan Cadogan,
Brass Construction,
Sugar Minott,
Carl Craig,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Urselle,
Terry Callier,
Gerry Rafferty,
Little Man,
Gabor Szabo,
The Tremeloes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Michelle Simonal,
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Shoche,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Bill Near,
Nirvana,
AZ,
The Saints,
Brand Nubian,
cv313,
Matthew Bourne,
Masters at Work,
The Barracudas,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Procol Harum,
James White and The Blacks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jerry's Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Unwound,
Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar,
Mo-Dettes,
Delon & Dalcan,
John Foxx,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiohead,
Eden Ahbez,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Misunderstood,
The Smoke,
Max Romeo,
Scott Walker,
Dawn Penn,
The Five Americans,
The Gap Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Glambeats Corp.,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.