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 Nepal and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Bizarre Inc. to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '80s.
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 The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Offenders,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Urselle,
Minny Pops,
Anakelly,
Donald Byrd,
Section 25,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lou Reed,
Arthur Verocai,
Guru Guru,
Joey Negro,
Grandmaster Flash,
Clear Light,
Sun Ra,
The Victims,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Neu!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
New Order,
Boredoms,
Alphaville,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
Scrapy,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxy Music,
Skarface,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
The Red Krayola,
Black Moon,
Tears for Fears,
Amon Düül,
Scratch Acid,
Maleditus Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
Spandau Ballet,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cal Tjader,
Crispian St. Peters,
James White and The Blacks,
Fugazi,
The Five Americans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Oneida,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.