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 Belgium and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Harry Pussy to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Gong,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Can,
Stiv Bators,
U.S. Maple,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joy Division,
R.M.O.,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Smoke,
Lucky Dragons,
This Heat,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
Thompson Twins,
The Pretty Things,
Q and Not U,
Los Fastidios,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Suicide,
Nik Kershaw,
Todd Terry,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Supertramp,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Starr,
The Shadows of Knight,
OOIOO,
Deepchord,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yazoo,
David McCallum,
Jerry's Kids,
Pulsallama,
Agent Orange,
Funky Four + One,
ABC,
The Blues Magoos,
Marc Almond,
Bill Near,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sugar Minott,
Goldenarms,
Heaven 17,
FM Einheit,
Bob Dylan,
Unwound,
The Zeros,
Derrick May,
Zapp,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Iggy Pop,
Ultra Naté,
The American Breed,
Kayak,
D'Angelo,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.