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 Vanuatu and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 F. McDonald 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
The Pop Group,
the Soft Cell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Erasure,
UT,
Bob Dylan,
Piero Umiliani,
D'Angelo,
Kurtis Blow,
Fad Gadget,
Black Sheep,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Smoke,
The Blackbyrds,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Steve Hackett,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
One Last Wish,
Ituana,
Malaria!,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Germs,
The Happenings,
Cheater Slicks,
Mr. Review,
Alphaville,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Essential Logic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Harmonia,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Dead C,
Brand Nubian,
Derrick Morgan,
Yellowson,
CMW,
Max Romeo,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Intrusion,
Fela Kuti,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ultimate Spinach,
Tropical Tobacco,
Visage,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joensuu 1685,
Marine Girls,
Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats, Thee Headcoats.
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.