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 Chad and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 arpeggiator 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 Techniques to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Index,
Kerrie Biddell,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Roy Ayers,
Brand Nubian,
Morten Harket,
Neu!,
Charles Mingus,
Sight & Sound,
Crooked Eye,
A Certain Ratio,
L. Decosne,
The Five Americans,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
10cc,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Swell Maps,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Beau Brummels,
Wally Richardson,
K-Klass,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fugs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Vogues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Steve Hackett,
Lindisfarne,
Brick,
Chris & Cosey,
Leonard Cohen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bob Dylan,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Neil Young,
Los Fastidios,
Flash Fearless,
Kaleidoscope,
cv313,
Kerri Chandler,
Kurtis Blow,
John Foxx,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Christie,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reuben Wilson,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moleskins,
John Lydon,
Rites of Spring,
Lungfish,
The Birthday Party,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.