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 Yemen and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the crunk 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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Howard Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Colin Newman,
Fifty Foot Hose,
cv313,
The Beau Brummels,
Symarip,
Letta Mbulu,
Iggy Pop,
Anthony Braxton,
Los Fastidios,
Maleditus Sound,
La Düsseldorf,
Cymande,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tommy Roe,
Aural Exciters,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
kango's stein massive,
Rosa Yemen,
Surgeon,
Althea and Donna,
The Grass Roots,
Public Enemy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Black Sheep,
Easy Going,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jacques Brel,
Soft Machine,
Alphaville,
Mandrill,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Five Americans,
Laurel Aitken,
The Sound,
Ossler,
The Gun Club,
The Martian,
H. Thieme,
Cal Tjader,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Deakin,
Liliput,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tom Boy,
June Days,
X-Ray Spex,
New York Dolls,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Sight & Sound,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
The Offenders,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.