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 Denmark and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Procol Harum to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
John Lydon,
H. Thieme,
Trumans Water,
The Tremeloes,
Lightning Bolt,
Maurizio,
Todd Rundgren,
Yazoo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Half Japanese,
Grauzone,
Minutemen,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Hardrive,
Brothers Johnson,
Nils Olav,
Cecil Taylor,
DJ Sneak,
The Beau Brummels,
Audionom,
Cymande,
Byron Stingily,
Soul II Soul,
Mad Mike,
The Flesh Eaters,
Man Parrish,
New York Dolls,
The Fall,
The Monks,
UT,
David Bowie,
The J.B.'s,
David McCallum,
Faust,
Al Stewart,
Donny Hathaway,
Robert Görl,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
Dark Day,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
Model 500,
Joy Division,
Vainqueur,
Barbara Tucker,
Little Man,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stereo Dub,
Bootsy Collins,
The Golliwogs,
Rakim,
The Five Americans,
Stiv Bators,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Womack,
The Techniques,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.