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 Czech Republic and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gastr Del Sol to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Deepchord. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quadrant,
Ornette Coleman,
Crime,
Lyres,
Bootsy Collins,
The Mojo Men,
ABC,
Marmalade,
Technova,
Gerry Rafferty,
Section 25,
Deakin,
Cheater Slicks,
The Pop Group,
The Motions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rapeman,
Porter Ricks,
Black Flag,
R.M.O.,
Funky Four + One,
Ken Boothe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Royal Trux,
Yusef Lateef,
Groovy Waters,
Boz Scaggs,
Crooked Eye,
Wolf Eyes,
Soulsonic Force,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sonny Sharrock,
Panda Bear,
Vainqueur,
Radio Birdman,
The American Breed,
Kayak,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dead Boys,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
AZ,
Q and Not U,
Duran Duran,
Yazoo,
Main Source,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moebius,
Warren Ellis,
Intrusion,
Monks,
Derrick Morgan,
Mandrill,
Sister Nancy,
Animal Collective,
Camberwell Now,
Sound Behaviour,
Qualms,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.