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 Belgium and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 chamberlin 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the jazz 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bizarre Inc.,
Crispy Ambulance,
Basic Channel,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Juan Atkins,
The Walker Brothers,
Marc Almond,
Can,
LL Cool J,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobby Sherman,
Yaz,
Bobby Byrd,
Negative Approach,
Erykah Badu,
Masters at Work,
the Association,
Lightning Bolt,
Patti Smith,
The Evens,
Althea and Donna,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Sonics,
Dual Sessions,
Section 25,
Neu!,
Kas Product,
Duran Duran,
Flamin' Groovies,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cowsills,
Magma,
Funky Four + One,
Cal Tjader,
Lalo Schifrin,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cymande,
Fugazi,
Banda Bassotti,
The Monks,
The Index,
Circle Jerks,
Ponytail,
The United States of America,
Crooked Eye,
Smog,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Clear Light,
Sarah Menescal,
The New Christs,
Scan 7,
Sun City Girls,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
F. McDonald,
The Smiths,
kango's stein massive,
Schoolly D,
Ronan,
Stiv Bators,
The Kinks,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.