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 Kuwait and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 sitar 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 Hot Snakes to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
The Star Department,
Aaron Thompson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Görl,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Osbourne,
Yaz,
Dead Boys,
The Mummies,
Malaria!,
Eurythmics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sixth Finger,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Halsall,
Alphaville,
Essential Logic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gladiators,
Robert Hood,
Amon Düül II,
X-Ray Spex,
Lyres,
Harmonia,
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bang On A Can,
Young Marble Giants,
Funkadelic,
Little Man,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The American Breed,
Subhumans,
Jawbox,
Josef K,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skriet,
The Cure,
Kaleidoscope,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Masters at Work,
La Düsseldorf,
Joensuu 1685,
The Remains,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
Moebius,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.