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 Zimbabwe and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Edmonton.
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 spring reverb 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 June Days to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Cramps,
Little Man,
Deakin,
Stiv Bators,
Stetsasonic,
Eden Ahbez,
Mad Mike,
Terry Callier,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kayak,
Depeche Mode,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
The Victims,
Sun Ra,
Girls At Our Best!,
Index,
Charles Mingus,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Marc Almond,
The Pretty Things,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Unwound,
Skarface,
Organ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Technova,
Lower 48,
EPMD,
The Alarm Clocks,
Interpol,
Blake Baxter,
Arthur Verocai,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Lynne,
Main Source,
Barclay James Harvest,
Zapp,
Neu!,
The Tremeloes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Evens,
Don Cherry,
Heaven 17,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
Matthew Halsall,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Loose Ends,
LL Cool J,
Mission of Burma,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.