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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Bootsy Collins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Holt,
Hoover,
Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Grass Roots,
Glenn Branca,
Marmalade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ice-T,
Nik Kershaw,
Bob Dylan,
Eden Ahbez,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sarah Menescal,
Dave Gahan,
Scott Walker,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pagans,
Steve Hackett,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Teasers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Procol Harum,
Deadbeat,
Magazine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
OOIOO,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dual Sessions,
Motorama,
Unrelated Segments,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Agitation Free,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maurizio,
Sällskapet,
Rotary Connection,
The Evens,
Nico,
Flash Fearless,
Basic Channel,
Fear,
Hasil Adkins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sister Nancy,
Janne Schatter,
Pantaleimon,
Ralphi Rosario,
DNA,
Joy Division,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.