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 East Timor and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 The Pop Group to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Beau Brummels,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
Sun City Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Sparks,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
KRS-One,
UT,
Idris Muhammad,
Main Source,
Gichy Dan,
the Association,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Scion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marmalade,
Darondo,
The Residents,
The Five Americans,
Scrapy,
The Busters,
Marvin Gaye,
Eve St. Jones,
Ultravox,
Public Enemy,
Kas Product,
Leonard Cohen,
Faust,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Vogues,
Glenn Branca,
Brick,
Tommy Roe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Fad Gadget,
Nico,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roy Ayers,
Shoche,
Mantronix,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Goldenarms,
The Seeds,
Gang of Four,
Lee Hazlewood,
Matthew Halsall,
The Skatalites,
Quantec,
Charles Mingus,
Ossler,
Monks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Country Teasers,
Average White Band,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.