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 Jamaica and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Anthony Braxton to the techno 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 The Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Yaz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Leonard Cohen,
ABBA,
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
H. Thieme,
Duran Duran,
Sound Behaviour,
Nico,
Altered Images,
Rufus Thomas,
John Cale,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Don Cherry,
The Angels of Light,
Stetsasonic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dead Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Yellowson,
JFA,
The Techniques,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
Freddie Wadling,
John Coltrane,
Popol Vuh,
Kool Moe Dee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moleskins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stiv Bators,
Tommy Roe,
T.S.O.L.,
One Last Wish,
Sparks,
Sugar Minott,
Barbara Tucker,
Brand Nubian,
Fluxion,
The Index,
Porter Ricks,
The Fugs,
Barry Ungar,
Deadbeat,
Blossom Toes,
Slick Rick,
The Tremeloes,
Angry Samoans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Soft Cell,
Erasure,
Fugazi,
Loose Ends,
Darondo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.