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 Greece and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Boredoms to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bob Dylan,
Joey Negro,
The Gories,
Brothers Johnson,
The Martian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Siglo XX,
The New Christs,
Matthew Bourne,
Banda Bassotti,
Severed Heads,
Skriet,
The Monochrome Set,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gang of Four,
David McCallum,
Make Up,
The Golliwogs,
Aural Exciters,
Barry Ungar,
Vladislav Delay,
Neil Young,
Eve St. Jones,
Tim Buckley,
Eden Ahbez,
kango's stein massive,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delta 5,
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
Public Image Ltd.,
China Crisis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bootsy Collins,
The Searchers,
Isaac Hayes,
Hot Snakes,
The United States of America,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Victims,
Bluetip,
John Cale,
The Skatalites,
Archie Shepp,
Bush Tetras,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sparks,
Flash Fearless,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Niagra,
Motorama,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kevin Saunderson,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.