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 Zambia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore 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 synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
PIL,
D'Angelo,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
Technova,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sex Pistols,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
The Busters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dave Gahan,
Sällskapet,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Parrish,
Derrick Morgan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Patti Smith,
Smog,
Stiv Bators,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Camberwell Now,
Black Pus,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
L. Decosne,
The Last Poets,
The Moody Blues,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Standells,
Minny Pops,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Malaria!,
The Tremeloes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Monks,
Can,
Moss Icon,
Pylon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Gang Dance,
EPMD,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-Ray Spex,
Pere Ubu,
The Monks,
Aaron Thompson,
AZ,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Divine Comedy,
Von Mondo,
DNA,
The Electric Prunes,
Jawbox,
Mark Hollis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Isaac Hayes,
Lungfish,
Reuben Wilson,
Zapp,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.