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 Oman 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Gichy Dan to the dance 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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Schoolly D,
Jandek,
Moebius,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
48th St. Collective,
Aloha Tigers,
Cymande,
Television,
Crispian St. Peters,
Roger Hodgson,
June of 44,
Nik Kershaw,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joe Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Angels of Light,
Todd Rundgren,
Rotary Connection,
Althea and Donna,
Maleditus Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
Graham Central Station,
Sam Rivers,
LL Cool J,
Erasure,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ken Boothe,
Funkadelic,
Cal Tjader,
The Monochrome Set,
Flash Fearless,
Eyeless In Gaza,
John Cale,
Crooked Eye,
The Neon Judgement,
Cameo,
Panda Bear,
Flipper,
Howard Jones,
The Dirtbombs,
Brand Nubian,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Inner City,
Bill Near,
Nico,
Desert Stars,
JFA,
Arthur Verocai,
Crispy Ambulance,
Camouflage,
The Cure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eddi Front,
Bluetip,
Matthew Halsall,
the Soft Cell,
The Gladiators,
Chrome,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New Age Steppers,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.