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 Namibia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 808 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 Cosmic Jokers to the rock 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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultra Naté,
Suburban Knight,
Hashim,
The Count Five,
Black Flag,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Coltrane,
The Sound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sound Behaviour,
The Skatalites,
Deakin,
Brass Construction,
Ken Boothe,
Ornette Coleman,
Urselle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Graham Central Station,
Animal Collective,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scientists,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Newcleus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Aural Exciters,
Tubeway Army,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Reed,
Wally Richardson,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jeff Lynne,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gun Club,
Infiniti,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Görl,
La Düsseldorf,
Ralphi Rosario,
Grauzone,
Jacques Brel,
Smog,
John Foxx,
The Gap Band,
Ultimate Spinach,
Metal Thangz,
Glenn Branca,
Barry Ungar,
Whodini,
Neu!,
Gabor Szabo,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Reagan Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bad Manners,
Lyres,
Niagra,
Letta Mbulu,
Henry Cow,
The Residents,
Scan 7,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.