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 Antigua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 The Cowsills to the grime 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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
Letta Mbulu,
Young Marble Giants,
Sun City Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Bourne,
Moss Icon,
The Smiths,
T.S.O.L.,
Thompson Twins,
Roxette,
Vladislav Delay,
Rapeman,
Ken Boothe,
Goldenarms,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Robert Görl,
Mandrill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Black Moon,
Bang On A Can,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Babytalk,
Patti Smith,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bob Dylan,
Talk Talk,
Rhythm & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Cybotron,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Cramps,
Moebius,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lou Christie,
Bluetip,
Crash Course in Science,
ABC,
Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Animal Collective,
Johnny Clarke,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Normal,
Scrapy,
The Fortunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Zapp,
Neu!,
Max Romeo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Alton Ellis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Siglo XX,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.