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 Cambodia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron 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 June Days to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Trojans,
Minnie Riperton,
Brick,
JFA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-Ray Spex,
Terrestrial Tones,
Toni Rubio,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fire Engines,
Sight & Sound,
the Slits,
Johnny Osbourne,
Groovy Waters,
Godley & Creme,
Scratch Acid,
The Cowsills,
Banda Bassotti,
Crash Course in Science,
Ponytail,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlback,
Shoche,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Little Man,
DJ Sneak,
Clear Light,
Echospace,
Mad Mike,
Massinfluence,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deakin,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Morten Harket,
Joey Negro,
The Monks,
Roy Ayers,
The Tremeloes,
Ken Boothe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
T. Rex,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Bad Manners,
B.T. Express,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Invisible,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Bluetip,
The Fall,
Big Daddy Kane,
X-101,
The Pretty Things,
Soft Machine,
Average White Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Marine Girls,
Ice-T,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.