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 Cameroon and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 the Human League to the techno 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Simply Red,
The Gun Club,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Tremeloes,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Groovy Waters,
Lightning Bolt,
The Evens,
DNA,
The United States of America,
Loose Ends,
T.S.O.L.,
David McCallum,
Lindisfarne,
Graham Central Station,
Funky Four + One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sexual Harrassment,
Motorama,
Max Romeo,
The Index,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Dual Sessions,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mummies,
Blancmange,
Pantytec,
Girls At Our Best!,
Terry Callier,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soft Machine,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marine Girls,
Barry Ungar,
The Stooges,
Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Wolf Eyes,
John Foxx,
Average White Band,
FM Einheit,
Mark Hollis,
The Slackers,
L. Decosne,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Knickerbockers,
Whodini,
Mary Jane Girls,
kango's stein massive,
Joensuu 1685,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Association,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Moebius,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.