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 Qatar and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Andrew Hill to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Patti Smith,
The Moody Blues,
The United States of America,
Tubeway Army,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tomorrow,
Pussy Galore,
Camouflage,
Peter & Gordon,
the Association,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Five Americans,
The Dead C,
Terry Callier,
Swell Maps,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Goldenarms,
The Victims,
Desert Stars,
Excepter,
China Crisis,
cv313,
Lee Hazlewood,
Smog,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dark Day,
Skaos,
Ultravox,
MC5,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gong,
Yaz,
Aural Exciters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kevin Saunderson,
E-Dancer,
Magazine,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
Tommy Roe,
Fatback Band,
L. Decosne,
Monolake,
Ten City,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Los Fastidios,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barrington Levy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Move,
Skarface,
Wings,
The Smiths,
Brand Nubian,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.