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 Mozambique and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the rap 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Motions,
Harry Pussy,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rotary Connection,
John Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Dawn Penn,
X-101,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronan,
Brick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cameo,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fear,
Al Stewart,
Gong,
Isaac Hayes,
Crime,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Sun City Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Mars,
The Angels of Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Hot Snakes,
Zero Boys,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roger Hodgson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Erykah Badu,
Robert Görl,
Black Moon,
Ossler,
Adolescents,
Rosa Yemen,
Amon Düül,
Eric Copeland,
The Last Poets,
the Soft Cell,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ponytail,
D'Angelo,
Ice-T,
AZ,
Ten City,
Kerrie Biddell,
Iggy Pop,
The Happenings,
The Moleskins,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.