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 Argentina and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Radiopuhelimet to the grime 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Blossom Toes,
Minnie Riperton,
The Count Five,
Marmalade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mad Mike,
Thee Headcoats,
Joey Negro,
Cluster,
The Doors,
Jimmy McGriff,
Moby Grape,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sam Rivers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pretty Things,
Harry Pussy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Leonard Cohen,
Khruangbin,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
Desert Stars,
The Gladiators,
Bill Near,
Junior Murvin,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sarah Menescal,
Monolake,
Moss Icon,
Groovy Waters,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Babytalk,
Minor Threat,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Donald Byrd,
Eric Copeland,
Nirvana,
Au Pairs,
The Busters,
The Sound,
the Germs,
Con Funk Shun,
Lalann,
Neil Young,
Arab on Radar,
Brick,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Trumans Water,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
Popol Vuh,
This Heat,
Eurythmics,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.