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 Sweden and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 kango's stein massive to the jazz 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
New York Dolls,
The Count Five,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cramps,
The Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Khruangbin,
Alphaville,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Hill,
Desert Stars,
Sight & Sound,
Rosa Yemen,
The Fortunes,
Quadrant,
The Leaves,
Scratch Acid,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nick Fraelich,
Neil Young,
The Velvet Underground,
Anthony Braxton,
Sugar Minott,
ABC,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
John Foxx,
Suicide,
Minor Threat,
Lyres,
Bush Tetras,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Laurel Aitken,
The J.B.'s,
Pole,
The Dead C,
The Music Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joe Smooth,
This Heat,
Matthew Bourne,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Almond,
Ultimate Spinach,
Smog,
Sam Rivers,
Cameo,
John Coltrane,
DJ Style,
Lalo Schifrin,
These Immortal Souls,
Marine Girls,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.