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 Afghanistan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tokyo.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Fugs to the rap 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oppenheimer Analysis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Talk Talk,
DNA,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Raincoats,
Funkadelic,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
The Cowsills,
Main Source,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pantytec,
Electric Prunes,
T. Rex,
Underground Resistance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cameo,
F. McDonald,
Fad Gadget,
Henry Cow,
Quadrant,
Carl Craig,
Ponytail,
The Names,
A Certain Ratio,
Eve St. Jones,
The Busters,
Nas,
Cal Tjader,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Human League,
Howard Jones,
K-Klass,
The Knickerbockers,
Terrestrial Tones,
Drexciya,
The Saints,
The Wake,
John Foxx,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues,
Lindisfarne,
Lalann,
David Bowie,
Duran Duran,
The Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mission of Burma,
Unrelated Segments,
The Young Rascals,
Anakelly,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Selecter,
Amazonics,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Neil Young,
Ultravox,
Archie Shepp,
Rakim,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.