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 Kenya and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Franke to the grunge 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every World's Most record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Bowie,
The American Breed,
Pantytec,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Schoolly D,
Ronnie Foster,
Banda Bassotti,
Subhumans,
Kas Product,
Soft Machine,
Joensuu 1685,
Tropical Tobacco,
June Days,
Agitation Free,
Tres Demented,
Bronski Beat,
Joy Division,
The Index,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ohio Players,
The Real Kids,
Grey Daturas,
Ice-T,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Altered Images,
Television,
Glenn Branca,
Radiohead,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Germs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Inner City,
L. Decosne,
Jeff Mills,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Dave Gahan,
Rites of Spring,
Skriet,
Eurythmics,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Little Man,
Interpol,
DJ Sneak,
In Retrospect,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
Visage,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Theoretical Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Leonard Cohen,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.