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 Sudan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Steve Hackett to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Judy Mowatt. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Cure,
Babytalk,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bush Tetras,
Warren Ellis,
Sonic Youth,
Harry Pussy,
Isaac Hayes,
T.S.O.L.,
Nils Olav,
This Heat,
Von Mondo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Niagra,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ludus,
Arab on Radar,
Joy Division,
The Knickerbockers,
Lyres,
Jawbox,
Desert Stars,
F. McDonald,
Massinfluence,
Adolescents,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Moody Blues,
The Neon Judgement,
Charles Mingus,
Scion,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
The Offenders,
Johnny Clarke,
The United States of America,
New Order,
Eric Copeland,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Main Source,
Rufus Thomas,
Al Stewart,
Tom Boy,
Skriet,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
Bob Dylan,
Talk Talk,
Vainqueur,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
The Star Department,
Can,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Unwound,
The Zeros,
Wolf Eyes,
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.