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 Equatorial Guinea and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Yaz to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Görl record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rotary Connection,
Lee Hazlewood,
Don Cherry,
Yaz,
Pylon,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Banda Bassotti,
Scratch Acid,
Rod Modell,
Duran Duran,
Joe Smooth,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat,
Neil Young,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
Camberwell Now,
Loose Ends,
L. Decosne,
Marc Almond,
Donny Hathaway,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
Alton Ellis,
the Human League,
Anakelly,
Amon Düül,
Aloha Tigers,
The Names,
Tears for Fears,
Q65,
Schoolly D,
Marine Girls,
The Trojans,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Marvin Gaye,
The Misunderstood,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Peter & Gordon,
Lightning Bolt,
the Association,
Freddie Wadling,
Janne Schatter,
Von Mondo,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
La Düsseldorf,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Rundgren,
Agent Orange,
The Sonics,
Nils Olav,
Negative Approach,
Jeff Mills,
The New Christs,
Public Enemy,
Piero Umiliani,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.