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 Dominica and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 Colin Newman to the disco 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 Boz Scaggs. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Tim Buckley,
10cc,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sun City Girls,
Sällskapet,
Deakin,
Severed Heads,
Pylon,
Freddie Wadling,
Altered Images,
Black Pus,
Mr. Review,
The Smiths,
Maurizio,
Rites of Spring,
Symarip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Easy Going,
Wally Richardson,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Derrick May,
OOIOO,
48th St. Collective,
H. Thieme,
Magazine,
Theoretical Girls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Foxx,
ABBA,
The Misunderstood,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Sherman,
Rakim,
June of 44,
Soulsonic Force,
Agitation Free,
Lalo Schifrin,
Skaos,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Human League,
Joy Division,
Traffic Nightmare,
Can,
Black Flag,
Swans,
Buzzcocks,
Y Pants,
Index,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Steve Hackett,
Gang Gang Dance,
Minutemen,
the Sonics,
Robert Görl,
the Normal,
Procol Harum,
Accadde A,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.