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 Belarus and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Desert Stars to the punk 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Procol Harum,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Howard Jones,
June of 44,
EPMD,
Subhumans,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lee Hazlewood,
Accadde A,
Gang of Four,
Harry Pussy,
X-101,
Eddi Front,
L. Decosne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scion,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Morten Harket,
Radiohead,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
John Cale,
Symarip,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Residents,
Main Source,
Hot Snakes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
UT,
Thee Headcoats,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Suicide,
Ossler,
Interpol,
Bauhaus,
Gang Starr,
Jeff Lynne,
Moss Icon,
F. McDonald,
The J.B.'s,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tubeway Army,
The Move,
Roger Hodgson,
the Normal,
The Searchers,
Roxy Music,
The Tremeloes,
Idris Muhammad,
Oneida,
Todd Terry,
Circle Jerks,
Underground Resistance,
Harmonia,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Metal Thangz,
The Neon Judgement,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.