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 Zambia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Erasure to the grunge 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Letta Mbulu,
The Dead C,
Ossler,
The Buckinghams,
Pylon,
Jeff Lynne,
Mantronix,
Scientists,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Fear,
Parry Music,
E-Dancer,
Boz Scaggs,
Camouflage,
The Barracudas,
The Mojo Men,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minny Pops,
Quando Quango,
Judy Mowatt,
Archie Shepp,
Shoche,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sun Ra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Maurizio,
Derrick Morgan,
Neu!,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlback,
Procol Harum,
Young Marble Giants,
The Pop Group,
The Zeros,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Busters,
Scion,
the Fania All-Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
kango's stein massive,
UT,
Arab on Radar,
The Martian,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
The Gladiators,
OOIOO,
Delta 5,
Zero Boys,
KRS-One,
New Age Steppers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mark Hollis,
Kerri Chandler,
The Slackers,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.