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 India and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Sao Paulo.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Last Poets to the grime 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Saccharine Trust,
The Associates,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dead C,
Yazoo,
Johnny Clarke,
Morten Harket,
Rosa Yemen,
The Five Americans,
Pierre Henry,
Malaria!,
Depeche Mode,
Tres Demented,
Piero Umiliani,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Nik Kershaw,
Outsiders,
The Mummies,
Minny Pops,
Pagans,
Chrome,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Count Five,
E-Dancer,
Heaven 17,
the Swans,
The Fuzztones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Intrusion,
Silicon Teens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Janne Schatter,
John Coltrane,
Susan Cadogan,
Gong,
Hasil Adkins,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dave Gahan,
Iggy Pop,
The Gun Club,
Interpol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül II,
Kas Product,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pere Ubu,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
MDC,
Ossler,
Sparks,
Television,
Goldenarms,
Albert Ayler,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.