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 Nauru and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 American Breed to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang Green,
The Blues Magoos,
Sonic Youth,
Scratch Acid,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Association,
Barrington Levy,
K-Klass,
Peter and Kerry,
Spandau Ballet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
10cc,
Eddi Front,
Bill Wells,
JFA,
the Germs,
The Remains,
Siglo XX,
Fat Boys,
AZ,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Q65,
Fluxion,
Ten City,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantytec,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Sherman,
Blake Baxter,
The Divine Comedy,
Quadrant,
Max Romeo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
John Coltrane,
Country Teasers,
Pierre Henry,
Los Fastidios,
Negative Approach,
The Star Department,
Cecil Taylor,
In Retrospect,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Rundgren,
Icehouse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yellowson,
The Count Five,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fall,
Massinfluence,
Arcadia,
Delta 5,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Vogues,
Magazine,
Con Funk Shun,
Suicide,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.