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 Niger and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the jazz 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Richard Hell and the Voidoids 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Symarip,
Ohio Players,
Mantronix,
Man Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Vogues,
Supertramp,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
New Order,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Television,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nico,
The Martian,
June Days,
The Smoke,
Brass Construction,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Toasters,
UT,
Little Man,
Marine Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Minutemen,
Bronski Beat,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Crash Course in Science,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Green,
Drexciya,
Ultimate Spinach,
Isaac Hayes,
Eric B and Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Smiths,
Circle Jerks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joe Finger,
Essential Logic,
Young Marble Giants,
Ice-T,
Surgeon,
Index,
Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Eve St. Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Lucky Dragons,
Sound Behaviour,
Agent Orange,
Motorama,
Minnie Riperton,
The Index,
The Birthday Party,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.