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 Guyana and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Tehran and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 arpeggiator 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 Ludus to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mr. Review,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Barclay James Harvest,
Erasure,
Smog,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Count Five,
Fear,
A Certain Ratio,
The Searchers,
Mission of Burma,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Blues Magoos,
Alison Limerick,
Pussy Galore,
Essential Logic,
The Skatalites,
EPMD,
The United States of America,
The Moleskins,
Black Moon,
Agitation Free,
Dave Gahan,
Reuben Wilson,
Flipper,
Grauzone,
Second Layer,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Funkadelic,
Guru Guru,
David Bowie,
a-ha,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tommy Roe,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Oblivians,
the Normal,
Audionom,
Sällskapet,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Sherman,
Rapeman,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fall,
Yazoo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Aloha Tigers,
The Zeros,
Quantec,
The Angels of Light,
The Grass Roots,
Wings,
Sun City Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.