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 Austria and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 James White and The Blacks to the funk 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
the Normal,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop,
Lou Christie,
Hoover,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bluetip,
Brothers Johnson,
The Dead C,
Unrelated Segments,
Erasure,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxette,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Offenders,
Unwound,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Shoche,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mantronix,
the Bar-Kays,
Soulsonic Force,
Y Pants,
Excepter,
Harry Pussy,
Theoretical Girls,
B.T. Express,
Lyres,
Yellowson,
Lungfish,
Neil Young,
Subhumans,
Liliput,
Black Bananas,
CMW,
Lalo Schifrin,
Albert Ayler,
Dennis Brown,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rekid,
Tomorrow,
Skaos,
Todd Rundgren,
The American Breed,
Radio Birdman,
Glenn Branca,
The Names,
Basic Channel,
Eric Copeland,
The Five Americans,
Lee Hazlewood,
John Lydon,
Steve Hackett,
Josef K,
The Walker Brothers,
Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus, Newcleus.
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.