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 Yemen and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin 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 Pussy Galore to the electroclash 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Aural Exciters,
China Crisis,
X-Ray Spex,
Siglo XX,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Icehouse,
Underground Resistance,
Funkadelic,
Stereo Dub,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Minutemen,
Newcleus,
David Bowie,
Cheater Slicks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Loose Ends,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Gap Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Knickerbockers,
DNA,
Jeff Lynne,
Brick,
Lou Reed,
Al Stewart,
Cecil Taylor,
Gabor Szabo,
Camberwell Now,
Eden Ahbez,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Severed Heads,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Faraquet,
Camouflage,
Ohio Players,
The Smiths,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lindisfarne,
Charles Mingus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Con Funk Shun,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
The Searchers,
the Association,
Eddi Front,
ABC,
D'Angelo,
Television Personalities,
Jimmy McGriff,
K-Klass,
Trumans Water,
Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc., Bizarre Inc..
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.