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 Palau and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Moody Blues to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
Animal Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Durutti Column,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Evens,
Bizarre Inc.,
Harry Pussy,
Maleditus Sound,
Nas,
Cluster,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Green,
The Monochrome Set,
T.S.O.L.,
X-Ray Spex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
a-ha,
FM Einheit,
Skaos,
Cecil Taylor,
Mission of Burma,
The Flesh Eaters,
Don Cherry,
Chris Corsano,
The Cure,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sparks,
Niagra,
The Selecter,
Oblivians,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warren Ellis,
Grauzone,
Sight & Sound,
Vladislav Delay,
Bronski Beat,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Sound,
Minnie Riperton,
Kenny Larkin,
Mars,
Scott Walker,
Desert Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Groovy Waters,
Fat Boys,
Janne Schatter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Royal Trux,
Popol Vuh,
Gang of Four,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.