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 Kyrgyzstan and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Inner City to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Wyatt,
The Leaves,
Lucky Dragons,
Au Pairs,
Fat Boys,
Joe Smooth,
Public Enemy,
Kayak,
Theoretical Girls,
The Fall,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
OOIOO,
The Moleskins,
Babytalk,
the Association,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dark Day,
Minny Pops,
DJ Sneak,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Clear Light,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Howard Jones,
Scan 7,
The Fuzztones,
Radio Birdman,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fugazi,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Visage,
Desert Stars,
Television Personalities,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pussy Galore,
James White and The Blacks,
Steve Hackett,
New Age Steppers,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Fad Gadget,
Organ,
Tubeway Army,
The Divine Comedy,
Crash Course in Science,
Harmonia,
Donald Byrd,
Alton Ellis,
Ultimate Spinach,
Altered Images,
The Slits,
Neu!,
Rotary Connection,
Model 500, Model 500, Model 500, Model 500.
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.