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 Mozambique and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sandy B to the disco 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Visage,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Von Mondo,
Morten Harket,
Yusef Lateef,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minnie Riperton,
Monolake,
Henry Cow,
Sixth Finger,
Moby Grape,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Loose Ends,
Black Bananas,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Offenders,
Tomorrow,
Liliput,
Moss Icon,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Happenings,
Unrelated Segments,
MDC,
Masters at Work,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Wings,
Deakin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Alphaville,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Al Stewart,
Gong,
The Vogues,
the Germs,
Animal Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Don Cherry,
Robert Wyatt,
Procol Harum,
Vainqueur,
Trumans Water,
Harmonia,
The Angels of Light,
Motorama,
Mars,
Black Pus,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yaz,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Andrew Hill,
Connie Case,
Quadrant,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Graham Central Station,
Fear,
The Skatalites,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Electric Prunes,
Pole,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.