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 Benin and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The United States of America to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Nas,
The Dirtbombs,
Shuggie Otis,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Smoke,
Aural Exciters,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
FM Einheit,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül II,
Audionom,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kerri Chandler,
Tom Boy,
Basic Channel,
Theoretical Girls,
The Searchers,
New Age Steppers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Hot Snakes,
New York Dolls,
The Monochrome Set,
Pulsallama,
The Red Krayola,
Panda Bear,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Reuben Wilson,
Nils Olav,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
DJ Sneak,
10cc,
Gang Green,
Television,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marc Almond,
Nik Kershaw,
Circle Jerks,
Lungfish,
Masters at Work,
Glenn Branca,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Scion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
8 Eyed Spy,
X-101,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Joyce Sims,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Halsall,
Chris & Cosey,
The Raincoats,
Model 500,
Blancmange,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
Eve St. Jones,
Eurythmics,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.