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 Azerbaijan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
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 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 Public Image Ltd. to the jazz 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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Connie Case,
the Germs,
Ten City,
The Angels of Light,
The Vogues,
The Five Americans,
The Index,
D'Angelo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Funkadelic,
Alton Ellis,
Marc Almond,
Swans,
Desert Stars,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stereo Dub,
Slave,
Interpol,
Rapeman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Deakin,
Gong,
Kerrie Biddell,
Amazonics,
Altered Images,
Sun City Girls,
Robert Wyatt,
Sam Rivers,
Maleditus Sound,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Raincoats,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Tremeloes,
The New Christs,
The Moody Blues,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Television Personalities,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
Cecil Taylor,
Magazine,
June of 44,
Boz Scaggs,
Pet Shop Boys,
Silicon Teens,
the Human League,
Amon Düül,
John Holt,
Johnny Osbourne,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scion,
Roxette,
Maurizio,
A Certain Ratio,
Bronski Beat,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.