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 Chile and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 The Young Rascals to the jazz 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 Brand Nubian. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Harmonia,
Matthew Bourne,
Make Up,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
China Crisis,
Letta Mbulu,
Supertramp,
Swell Maps,
the Soft Cell,
Pet Shop Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Gang Gang Dance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Al Stewart,
Eddi Front,
Banda Bassotti,
Cameo,
Amon Düül,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Howard Jones,
Crash Course in Science,
In Retrospect,
Fugazi,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Techniques,
The Monks,
Stereo Dub,
Shuggie Otis,
The Tremeloes,
kango's stein massive,
Tim Buckley,
Kerrie Biddell,
Interpol,
Television,
FM Einheit,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Godley & Creme,
Babytalk,
The Star Department,
Deepchord,
Bluetip,
Scott Walker,
The Fortunes,
Pagans,
Spandau Ballet,
The Beau Brummels,
The Neon Judgement,
The Toasters,
Leonard Cohen,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minnie Riperton,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
Crime,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Agitation Free,
H. Thieme,
cv313,
The Dead C,
The Dave Clark Five,
Delta 5,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.