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 France and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 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 The Electric Prunes 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 Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joy Division,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roger Hodgson,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Move,
Magma,
T. Rex,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Names,
Rotary Connection,
Kerrie Biddell,
Andrew Hill,
The Associates,
Deakin,
The Wake,
Yellowson,
Cymande,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fall,
The Gladiators,
PIL,
Monolake,
Tom Boy,
A Certain Ratio,
Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
China Crisis,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
the Soft Cell,
Jeru the Damaja,
Alphaville,
CMW,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
The J.B.'s,
Eurythmics,
Ken Boothe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
B.T. Express,
Freddie Wadling,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Ornette Coleman,
kango's stein massive,
The Sonics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kaleidoscope,
Ossler,
Idris Muhammad,
The Vogues,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
Organ,
Lyres,
Judy Mowatt,
Shoche,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.