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 Chile and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Offenders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
The Angels of Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Popol Vuh,
John Holt,
Bad Manners,
Tomorrow,
Maleditus Sound,
The Monks,
Sun Ra,
Brick,
Eric Copeland,
Lindisfarne,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Electric Prunes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Heaven 17,
Lyres,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Carl Craig,
Graham Central Station,
Lightning Bolt,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
Sister Nancy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Al Stewart,
Slave,
Pagans,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
cv313,
Yusef Lateef,
DNA,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Marc Almond,
The Sound,
Hashim,
Bang On A Can,
The Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ken Boothe,
The Move,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
The Doors,
Bronski Beat,
Cameo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tubeway Army,
The Martian,
Fat Boys,
Joy Division,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.