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 Yemen and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Alphaville to the rock 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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slits,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Index,
Pylon,
Pole,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
John Cale,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sex Pistols,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Cal Tjader,
JFA,
Nation of Ulysses,
Yusef Lateef,
Goldenarms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Liliput,
Amazonics,
The Sound,
Todd Terry,
Laurel Aitken,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Derrick Morgan,
The Litter,
Charles Mingus,
Ituana,
Jawbox,
Joyce Sims,
Tubeway Army,
Hoover,
The Blues Magoos,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
UT,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sällskapet,
Roxy Music,
Graham Central Station,
Leonard Cohen,
MDC,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deepchord,
Bush Tetras,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-102,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gang Gang Dance,
Jacques Brel,
ABC,
Thee Headcoats,
8 Eyed Spy,
Camberwell Now,
Tres Demented,
Bill Near,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.