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 Somalia and from Bologna.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 harpsichord 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 Nick Fraelich to the grime 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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All The Names tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Index,
Nik Kershaw,
Simply Red,
The United States of America,
The Flesh Eaters,
Television,
Joensuu 1685,
The Buckinghams,
Henry Cow,
Alison Limerick,
Loose Ends,
Kaleidoscope,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
The Seeds,
Stiv Bators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aloha Tigers,
Gong,
The Skatalites,
Cameo,
The Busters,
Shuggie Otis,
Junior Murvin,
These Immortal Souls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
The Evens,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ituana,
the Swans,
Flash Fearless,
Wire,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Sherman,
Maurizio,
KRS-One,
Thompson Twins,
Suicide,
Qualms,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Judy Mowatt,
Flipper,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fire Engines,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Tubeway Army,
The Gories,
Main Source,
a-ha,
Liliput,
Lyres,
Aaron Thompson,
Rufus Thomas,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.