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 Bulgaria and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jacques Brel to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
The Names,
The Moody Blues,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Maurizio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
Radio Birdman,
T. Rex,
Bad Manners,
Jimmy McGriff,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Almond,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Zeros,
The Monochrome Set,
Quando Quango,
The Sonics,
Das Ding,
Ronan,
Oneida,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pagans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Fugazi,
Barbara Tucker,
Lyres,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alice Coltrane,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
DNA,
Skaos,
Negative Approach,
Rekid,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Infiniti,
Bronski Beat,
The Durutti Column,
Barrington Levy,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
Patti Smith,
The Saints,
Gichy Dan,
Kas Product,
Howard Jones,
The Modern Lovers,
Skarface,
Sun City Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxy Music,
The Seeds,
Dual Sessions,
The Golliwogs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pylon,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.