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 Mozambique and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Infiniti 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All China Crisis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
The Durutti Column,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Star Department,
The Flesh Eaters,
UT,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Barracudas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Agent Orange,
Danielle Patucci,
Harmonia,
Con Funk Shun,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minutemen,
Qualms,
Khruangbin,
Vainqueur,
David Bowie,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Standells,
Visage,
The Modern Lovers,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marc Almond,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Cowsills,
Suicide,
David McCallum,
E-Dancer,
H. Thieme,
Saccharine Trust,
Thompson Twins,
Marshall Jefferson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Oblivians,
Scratch Acid,
The Slackers,
Main Source,
Eden Ahbez,
Das Ding,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
The Names,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gun Club,
The Monks,
Skaos,
Ludus,
Scott Walker,
Aural Exciters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Iggy Pop,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.