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 Haiti and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Metal Thangz to the jazz 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Faust,
Grauzone,
Silicon Teens,
Charles Mingus,
Technova,
OOIOO,
Ultravox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Excepter,
Terry Callier,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Funkadelic,
Fear,
Pole,
ABBA,
Don Cherry,
The Fortunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Talk Talk,
Franke,
Lower 48,
Au Pairs,
Index,
Supertramp,
David Axelrod,
Spoonie Gee,
Sight & Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
Sun Ra,
Wolf Eyes,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Peter and Kerry,
Audionom,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Interpol,
John Cale,
Kas Product,
Procol Harum,
Spandau Ballet,
Rekid,
Alphaville,
Japan,
Pagans,
The Barracudas,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swell Maps,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sällskapet,
The Blues Magoos,
Dark Day,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pierre Henry,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.