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 Ireland and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Jandek,
Hardrive,
The Blues Magoos,
Wire,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
PIL,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wasted Youth,
the Human League,
Tears for Fears,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Maurizio,
Absolute Body Control,
Pylon,
DNA,
Tres Demented,
David McCallum,
Fatback Band,
The Invisible,
Spoonie Gee,
Soul Sonic Force,
Con Funk Shun,
kango's stein massive,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Style,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Vainqueur,
Fat Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Gichy Dan,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
Sex Pistols,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Minny Pops,
Sarah Menescal,
Motorama,
The Leaves,
The Gun Club,
Bronski Beat,
the Germs,
ABBA,
Isaac Hayes,
Eli Mardock,
Slick Rick,
Gang of Four,
Von Mondo,
The Angels of Light,
Amon Düül II,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Popol Vuh,
Patti Smith,
Kas Product,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.