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 Sweden and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 chamberlin 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 The Alarm Clocks 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Absolute Body Control,
The Electric Prunes,
Popol Vuh,
Pulsallama,
Excepter,
Tears for Fears,
The Slackers,
The Sound,
Radio Birdman,
Davy DMX,
Sonny Sharrock,
Minnie Riperton,
David Bowie,
Boz Scaggs,
U.S. Maple,
The Shadows of Knight,
Audionom,
The Fall,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Slits,
T. Rex,
Zapp,
Swell Maps,
Bad Manners,
The Five Americans,
Guru Guru,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
Nils Olav,
Joensuu 1685,
Scientists,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siglo XX,
Spoonie Gee,
Con Funk Shun,
Scott Walker,
Avey Tare,
Hot Snakes,
the Germs,
Hoover,
Masters at Work,
Max Romeo,
Henry Cow,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
New Order,
JFA,
Gang Green,
The Sonics,
Lucky Dragons,
LL Cool J,
John Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
The Black Dice,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Maurizio,
Crime,
Qualms,
Sound Behaviour,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.