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 Syria and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the jazz 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mo-Dettes,
Kenny Larkin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Wire,
Young Marble Giants,
Peter and Kerry,
Ice-T,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joe Smooth,
Deakin,
10cc,
Marc Almond,
The Blackbyrds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Donald Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ronnie Foster,
Godley & Creme,
The Names,
Q and Not U,
Ten City,
The Fuzztones,
Pylon,
Slick Rick,
Wally Richardson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Heaven 17,
The Techniques,
La Düsseldorf,
Con Funk Shun,
Zero Boys,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soulsonic Force,
Pantytec,
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
the Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Masters at Work,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ken Boothe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roger Hodgson,
Sight & Sound,
Tres Demented,
The Cure,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scion,
Traffic Nightmare,
ABC,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Depeche Mode,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.