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 Czech Republic and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 David Bowie to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Porter Ricks,
the Fania All-Stars,
In Retrospect,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bobby Byrd,
The Fall,
Theoretical Girls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marmalade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Black Bananas,
Lucky Dragons,
Tears for Fears,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tomorrow,
Funky Four + One,
Metal Thangz,
The Monochrome Set,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pulsallama,
Byron Stingily,
Kool Moe Dee,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
David McCallum,
Ludus,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Human League,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Country Teasers,
Dawn Penn,
Bill Near,
Gabor Szabo,
Toni Rubio,
Audionom,
F. McDonald,
Brass Construction,
Brand Nubian,
K-Klass,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sonny Sharrock,
Section 25,
The Raincoats,
Groovy Waters,
Swell Maps,
The Buckinghams,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Fraelich,
The New Christs,
The Sonics,
The Names,
Negative Approach,
John Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
Susan Cadogan,
Von Mondo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Sheep,
Flash Fearless,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.