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 Hungary and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Urselle 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Saints,
Heaven 17,
Delon & Dalcan,
Supertramp,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
Model 500,
Urselle,
Jacques Brel,
the Sonics,
Tom Boy,
K-Klass,
Skarface,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Spoonie Gee,
Audionom,
Lee Hazlewood,
Johnny Clarke,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Japan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Standells,
Young Marble Giants,
Little Man,
Grey Daturas,
The Walker Brothers,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Moleskins,
Joe Finger,
Idris Muhammad,
Scientists,
Roxy Music,
Jandek,
Ituana,
Gang Starr,
F. McDonald,
Kurtis Blow,
Rosa Yemen,
MC5,
Fad Gadget,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Funkadelic,
Yaz,
Juan Atkins,
Theoretical Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
Howard Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Dead Boys,
the Swans,
Blancmange,
David Bowie,
The Human League,
The Motions,
Nirvana,
Cluster,
Rod Modell,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.