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 Ukraine and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Altered Images to the rock 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Suicide tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Niagra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Talk Talk,
48th St. Collective,
Maleditus Sound,
Barry Ungar,
The Five Americans,
Donald Byrd,
Porter Ricks,
Alice Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Hardrive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Average White Band,
Marine Girls,
The Angels of Light,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare,
Los Fastidios,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Associates,
Liliput,
The J.B.'s,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Derrick Morgan,
Connie Case,
Severed Heads,
Minny Pops,
Bauhaus,
Sugar Minott,
Kayak,
Jacques Brel,
Delon & Dalcan,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Red Krayola,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Sheep,
One Last Wish,
Crispy Ambulance,
New Age Steppers,
Erasure,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Monks,
Malaria!,
Ornette Coleman,
Whodini,
Joey Negro,
Kerrie Biddell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gregory Isaacs,
Technova,
The Dave Clark Five,
kango's stein massive,
Magazine,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.