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 Costa Rica and from Philadelphia.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 spring reverb 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 New York Dolls to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Lalo Schifrin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crooked Eye,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Christie,
Absolute Body Control,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Albert Ayler,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang of Four,
Lungfish,
Adolescents,
The Zeros,
Young Marble Giants,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rekid,
Moss Icon,
Blancmange,
The Human League,
Aswad,
Ken Boothe,
Susan Cadogan,
David McCallum,
Liliput,
Bobby Sherman,
Matthew Bourne,
Slave,
UT,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mummies,
KRS-One,
Funky Four + One,
Los Fastidios,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eve St. Jones,
Soft Cell,
Dawn Penn,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alison Limerick,
Shoche,
Suicide,
Y Pants,
Circle Jerks,
The Cure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slackers,
The Electric Prunes,
Junior Murvin,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
OOIOO,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sister Nancy,
Eurythmics,
Radio Birdman,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers,
Technova,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.