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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Victims to the rap 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Evens,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tubeway Army,
Man Parrish,
Robert Görl,
Electric Prunes,
The Count Five,
Eden Ahbez,
Rotary Connection,
Bang On A Can,
Moss Icon,
Ultravox,
Stereo Dub,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Monolake,
Saccharine Trust,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Wally Richardson,
Jerry's Kids,
Brand Nubian,
The Walker Brothers,
Scrapy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monochrome Set,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Cell,
Rhythm & Sound,
Second Layer,
Fatback Band,
These Immortal Souls,
AZ,
The Dave Clark Five,
10cc,
John Lydon,
Circle Jerks,
T. Rex,
This Heat,
Rakim,
the Soft Cell,
Scott Walker,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
Franke,
Swell Maps,
Fad Gadget,
The Zeros,
Niagra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxy Music,
Pere Ubu,
Loose Ends,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Slave,
Black Pus,
Jimmy McGriff,
X-102,
Swans,
Black Sheep,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jacques Brel,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.