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 Indonesia and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Nils Olav to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
B.T. Express,
Unwound,
Excepter,
Eli Mardock,
Minnie Riperton,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bill Wells,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Monochrome Set,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Cale,
Black Pus,
Whodini,
The Count Five,
Brothers Johnson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Funky Four + One,
Scientists,
Hasil Adkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cybotron,
Cheater Slicks,
the Swans,
Graham Central Station,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Amon Düül II,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Supertramp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Radio Birdman,
The Star Department,
Letta Mbulu,
CMW,
Brass Construction,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
Organ,
The Fortunes,
Delta 5,
Black Bananas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang On A Can,
Monolake,
Darondo,
Loose Ends,
The Fall,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Newcleus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New York Dolls,
The Detroit Cobras,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Slits,
Skriet,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.