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 Taiwan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Spoonie Gee to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Black Flag tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bauhaus,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bill Wells,
Newcleus,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Intrusion,
The Move,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
EPMD,
Eddi Front,
Cymande,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minny Pops,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Archie Shepp,
Grauzone,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dave Gahan,
Cameo,
Sugar Minott,
Byron Stingily,
Ronan,
Derrick Morgan,
Accadde A,
Roy Ayers,
Sonic Youth,
The Angels of Light,
Connie Case,
Leonard Cohen,
These Immortal Souls,
the Slits,
Ice-T,
The Leaves,
Wasted Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ludus,
The Index,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Prince Buster,
Bob Dylan,
The Sound,
MDC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brand Nubian,
The Smoke,
Moss Icon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June Days,
Nik Kershaw,
New York Dolls,
Blancmange,
Ken Boothe,
Easy Going,
The Mojo Men,
The Moody Blues,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.