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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Danielle Patucci to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Chocolate Watch Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Barracudas,
Scientists,
Zapp,
Bronski Beat,
Maleditus Sound,
Moebius,
Black Pus,
Metal Thangz,
Jeff Lynne,
H. Thieme,
Fugazi,
The Smiths,
Minny Pops,
Anakelly,
Fela Kuti,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Soul II Soul,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Moon,
Groovy Waters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy Collins,
The Evens,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young,
Camberwell Now,
Lyres,
John Lydon,
Aswad,
Joe Finger,
Little Man,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Archie Shepp,
Quando Quango,
Television Personalities,
Sex Pistols,
Circle Jerks,
Kevin Saunderson,
the Germs,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wasted Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joey Negro,
ABBA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
X-Ray Spex,
The Toasters,
Tres Demented,
Unwound,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Saints,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.