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 Rwanda and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Black Sheep,
LL Cool J,
The Monks,
Nas,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arcadia,
Laurel Aitken,
Stiv Bators,
Fugazi,
Peter and Kerry,
John Cale,
Hot Snakes,
Bad Manners,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Y Pants,
Mad Mike,
Dorothy Ashby,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Swans,
James White and The Blacks,
The Wake,
Idris Muhammad,
Robert Wyatt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Junior Murvin,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
New York Dolls,
Hasil Adkins,
Al Stewart,
The Searchers,
Roxette,
the Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
Rakim,
Clear Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Light Orchestra,
PIL,
Albert Ayler,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Slits,
Bill Wells,
Johnny Osbourne,
Anakelly,
Ludus,
June of 44,
Los Fastidios,
The Tremeloes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fluxion,
Yusef Lateef,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.