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 Congo and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Real Kids to the electroclash 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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Arab on Radar,
Masters at Work,
The Blues Magoos,
Joey Negro,
June Days,
Gang Gang Dance,
DNA,
ABBA,
The Doors,
Royal Trux,
Heaven 17,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fluxion,
Vainqueur,
Smog,
Goldenarms,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Soft Cell,
D'Angelo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
Pet Shop Boys,
Yusef Lateef,
Jimmy McGriff,
Desert Stars,
The Doobie Brothers,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
Rites of Spring,
Qualms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scan 7,
New Age Steppers,
James White and The Blacks,
Roxy Music,
Chris & Cosey,
The Real Kids,
Metal Thangz,
The Monks,
Tears for Fears,
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
Neil Young,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Moby Grape,
Sparks,
Slick Rick,
Maurizio,
Janne Schatter,
Excepter,
Eurythmics,
Wolf Eyes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Susan Cadogan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grauzone,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.