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 Fiji and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Television Personalities to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Flash Fearless. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
The Kinks,
The Smoke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lyres,
Marvin Gaye,
Gang of Four,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eden Ahbez,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
cv313,
Brothers Johnson,
Organ,
Television,
The Fortunes,
Black Flag,
Boredoms,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers,
New Age Steppers,
Schoolly D,
The Wake,
Sex Pistols,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Raincoats,
ABC,
The Star Department,
Reuben Wilson,
Marshall Jefferson,
Country Teasers,
Surgeon,
Circle Jerks,
Ohio Players,
The Names,
Flamin' Groovies,
T. Rex,
Susan Cadogan,
Masters at Work,
Lightning Bolt,
The Five Americans,
Bronski Beat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fifty Foot Hose,
John Holt,
Bush Tetras,
Eve St. Jones,
Juan Atkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Copeland,
The Techniques,
The Index,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
Amon Düül,
Donny Hathaway,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marmalade,
10cc,
Skaos,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.