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 New Zealand and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Mars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
The Offenders,
Rufus Thomas,
Erasure,
Dual Sessions,
Hardrive,
The Cure,
8 Eyed Spy,
Juan Atkins,
Blancmange,
Shuggie Otis,
Vladislav Delay,
Organ,
John Foxx,
Rosa Yemen,
Liliput,
Dennis Brown,
Minnie Riperton,
the Human League,
The Slackers,
The Blackbyrds,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Eve St. Jones,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
New Order,
Bauhaus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rites of Spring,
Fear,
Freddie Wadling,
Minny Pops,
One Last Wish,
Infiniti,
Eddi Front,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Fugs,
John Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
Hoover,
John Lydon,
The Gladiators,
Accadde A,
Hot Snakes,
Soft Machine,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultravox,
Intrusion,
Robert Görl,
The Smoke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Siglo XX,
The Blues Magoos,
Ice-T,
The Real Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Misunderstood,
CMW,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.