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 Togo and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agent Orange,
The Buckinghams,
Public Enemy,
Dark Day,
Main Source,
Section 25,
The Knickerbockers,
The Raincoats,
Sam Rivers,
Saccharine Trust,
The Remains,
China Crisis,
Accadde A,
Mission of Burma,
The Pretty Things,
Motorama,
Vainqueur,
Slick Rick,
ABC,
Anakelly,
Flamin' Groovies,
Whodini,
Soft Cell,
Letta Mbulu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Moody Blues,
Minny Pops,
the Soft Cell,
Prince Buster,
Jimmy McGriff,
Subhumans,
Sparks,
Qualms,
Drexciya,
Maleditus Sound,
Joy Division,
B.T. Express,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Saints,
Banda Bassotti,
Con Funk Shun,
Lower 48,
Sonic Youth,
Infiniti,
Popol Vuh,
The Modern Lovers,
The Walker Brothers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Au Pairs,
Chris & Cosey,
Aaron Thompson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
E-Dancer,
Faraquet,
Angry Samoans,
Gang Green,
The Dave Clark Five,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eyeless In Gaza,
L. Decosne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sällskapet,
Freddie Wadling,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.