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 Ivory Coast and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Victims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bootsy Collins,
Aswad,
Eurythmics,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
Delta 5,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dark Day,
Trumans Water,
Faraquet,
The Fortunes,
Moebius,
Soul Sonic Force,
Davy DMX,
Vainqueur,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Procol Harum,
Radiopuhelimet,
Quantec,
Maurizio,
John Lydon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Byrd,
Radiohead,
These Immortal Souls,
the Association,
Banda Bassotti,
Cameo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Neu!,
Erykah Badu,
The Trojans,
Malaria!,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Real Kids,
This Heat,
The Gun Club,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Slave,
Y Pants,
The Sound,
Mandrill,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hoover,
Howard Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
Basic Channel,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
Ronan,
Spoonie Gee,
Kas Product,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.