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 Bulgaria and from New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moebius to the grunge 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Lee Hazlewood,
Oblivians,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Litter,
Bill Wells,
Kas Product,
Alton Ellis,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marc Almond,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rod Modell,
Judy Mowatt,
Bad Manners,
The Human League,
Danielle Patucci,
Fugazi,
Boz Scaggs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Black Sheep,
Moebius,
Howard Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
Stiv Bators,
the Slits,
Dark Day,
MC5,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sam Rivers,
The Zeros,
Ultimate Spinach,
June Days,
Albert Ayler,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Symarip,
Los Fastidios,
Neu!,
Unrelated Segments,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The New Christs,
The Sound,
Roxette,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
Blossom Toes,
Tres Demented,
Newcleus,
Sound Behaviour,
Cybotron,
Rakim,
The Wake,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tommy Roe,
Drexciya,
One Last Wish,
Rhythm & Sound,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
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.