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 Belize and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Arab on Radar to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
Rapeman,
Urselle,
Bob Dylan,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pylon,
Lyres,
X-102,
Wings,
Fear,
Scion,
Piero Umiliani,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Hood,
Radiohead,
Thompson Twins,
Spoonie Gee,
Talk Talk,
Rotary Connection,
Soft Machine,
The Gladiators,
Moebius,
The Fugs,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
The Motions,
Pharoah Sanders,
Funky Four + One,
Warren Ellis,
Glenn Branca,
Pantaleimon,
Scott Walker,
ABBA,
The Tremeloes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Move,
Lightning Bolt,
Agitation Free,
Pole,
Crispian St. Peters,
Los Fastidios,
The Seeds,
John Cale,
Faraquet,
Ice-T,
Monks,
Jacques Brel,
Pantytec,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
ABC,
DNA,
Peter and Kerry,
Absolute Body Control,
10cc,
Magazine,
Skarface,
Deakin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sonic Youth,
The Residents,
Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman, Bobby Sherman.
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.