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 Haiti and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 X-Ray Spex to the dance 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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris Corsano record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Ken Boothe,
Supertramp,
The Buckinghams,
Malaria!,
Derrick May,
Spandau Ballet,
T. Rex,
Lindisfarne,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Motorama,
Junior Murvin,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Aural Exciters,
a-ha,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Metal Thangz,
Gastr Del Sol,
CMW,
Sight & Sound,
Vainqueur,
Electric Prunes,
The Names,
Deakin,
Silicon Teens,
Can,
Pulsallama,
Crash Course in Science,
Zero Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barclay James Harvest,
Newcleus,
Magma,
Reagan Youth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Spoonie Gee,
Pole,
The Music Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Public Image Ltd.,
Moss Icon,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers,
Stiv Bators,
The Birthday Party,
Moby Grape,
The Moody Blues,
the Germs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Piero Umiliani,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Das Ding,
David Axelrod,
Flamin' Groovies,
Symarip,
These Immortal Souls,
Au Pairs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.