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 Benin and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
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 guitar 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 Absolute Body Control to the punk 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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Flash Fearless,
Glambeats Corp.,
L. Decosne,
Zapp,
John Coltrane,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fire Engines,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joe Finger,
Thompson Twins,
The Standells,
Moebius,
Oneida,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Funky Four + One,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
Slave,
Barclay James Harvest,
Iggy Pop,
Fatback Band,
a-ha,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Desert Stars,
Yellowson,
Prince Buster,
Gerry Rafferty,
X-Ray Spex,
Reagan Youth,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fear,
Parry Music,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lakeside,
The Electric Prunes,
Pulsallama,
Skriet,
Au Pairs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Slackers,
Isaac Hayes,
Althea and Donna,
Banda Bassotti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Josef K,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masters at Work,
Sugar Minott,
Nirvana,
Matthew Halsall,
The Real Kids,
Black Pus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Guru Guru,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.