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 Iran and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Madrid.
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 sitar 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 Franke to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Brass Construction,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lightning Bolt,
Tomorrow,
Black Pus,
The Moleskins,
Maurizio,
Chrome,
The Last Poets,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yazoo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scion,
E-Dancer,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barry Ungar,
Ice-T,
Bob Dylan,
Erasure,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
Jeff Mills,
Scrapy,
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Steve Hackett,
Minnie Riperton,
Guru Guru,
Youth Brigade,
Pharoah Sanders,
Excepter,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Negative Approach,
Fear,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Skarface,
Derrick May,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
The Doors,
The Selecter,
Nico,
Aaron Thompson,
Graham Central Station,
New Order,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlback,
David Bowie,
Ronan,
China Crisis,
Theoretical Girls,
Livin' Joy,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike,
Oneida,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
Niagra,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.