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 Bhutan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the techno 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sparks,
The Knickerbockers,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Joey Negro,
Ohio Players,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
David McCallum,
David Axelrod,
The Gun Club,
Scott Walker,
Procol Harum,
L. Decosne,
The Fortunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Star Department,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Steve Hackett,
Kas Product,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
Supertramp,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Iggy Pop,
Don Cherry,
X-101,
La Düsseldorf,
Livin' Joy,
Flamin' Groovies,
New York Dolls,
Symarip,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Matthew Halsall,
Bootsy Collins,
The Kinks,
Dennis Brown,
Kenny Larkin,
The Residents,
Black Moon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
H. Thieme,
Hardrive,
Henry Cow,
Oblivians,
Alphaville,
Organ,
The J.B.'s,
Fat Boys,
Basic Channel,
The Cowsills,
Moby Grape,
Panda Bear,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.