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 Belarus and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Eli Mardock to the jazz 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Minny Pops,
Talk Talk,
Can,
China Crisis,
Skriet,
The Names,
Bob Dylan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Althea and Donna,
L. Decosne,
Metal Thangz,
Anakelly,
Terrestrial Tones,
Schoolly D,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blake Baxter,
Scrapy,
Roy Ayers,
David McCallum,
The Cure,
The Offenders,
The Move,
John Lydon,
The Misunderstood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fugazi,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mojo Men,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yaz,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quantec,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Invisible,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Associates,
Junior Murvin,
Tomorrow,
Mars,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Babytalk,
Dark Day,
Underground Resistance,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hot Snakes,
Pulsallama,
Mantronix,
Khruangbin,
Sarah Menescal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brick,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Barracudas,
The Fugs,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.