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 Micronesia and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Normal to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
Mad Mike,
Supertramp,
Henry Cow,
Symarip,
Buzzcocks,
Quando Quango,
Anakelly,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
June Days,
The Searchers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
World's Most,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Heaven 17,
Crispy Ambulance,
Aloha Tigers,
One Last Wish,
Cecil Taylor,
Cybotron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fela Kuti,
Talk Talk,
Stereo Dub,
The Cure,
The Slits,
Sandy B,
Gil Scott Heron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
The Walker Brothers,
Dennis Brown,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
Ohio Players,
X-101,
The Star Department,
Kevin Saunderson,
New Age Steppers,
Scion,
the Slits,
Tom Boy,
Eddi Front,
Depeche Mode,
CMW,
The Invisible,
The Real Kids,
Brothers Johnson,
The Vogues,
Pere Ubu,
Reuben Wilson,
Wasted Youth,
Whodini,
Howard Jones,
Sixth Finger,
Dual Sessions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lucky Dragons,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.