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 Kazakhstan and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Sherman,
Jerry's Kids,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T. Rex,
Colin Newman,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Index,
Urselle,
The Blues Magoos,
Slave,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mummies,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Audionom,
The Tremeloes,
Skaos,
Stetsasonic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scrapy,
The Standells,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rakim,
The Birthday Party,
Shuggie Otis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Amon Düül II,
Roxette,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
John Coltrane,
Nik Kershaw,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Star Department,
Jacob Miller,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Technova,
This Heat,
Sun City Girls,
The Doors,
Model 500,
Lucky Dragons,
Pantaleimon,
Lungfish,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Masters at Work,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Kas Product,
Das Ding,
Cluster,
kango's stein massive,
Tubeway Army,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.