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 Belgium and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
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 mellotron 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 The Cure to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Buckinghams. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Glambeats Corp.,
Joy Division,
Harmonia,
Ronan,
Tommy Roe,
This Heat,
John Lydon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Invisible,
Barclay James Harvest,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The American Breed,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Associates,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The J.B.'s,
Dual Sessions,
Marine Girls,
Skriet,
Nirvana,
Fugazi,
Pantytec,
Derrick Morgan,
The Fortunes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Severed Heads,
Sonic Youth,
Mars,
Jandek,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gories,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bush Tetras,
Aural Exciters,
Gerry Rafferty,
World's Most,
Kas Product,
Sandy B,
Ituana,
The Knickerbockers,
Quantec,
The Stooges,
Quadrant,
Chris & Cosey,
Slick Rick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Lightning Bolt,
Altered Images,
The Trojans,
Organ,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Christie,
the Soft Cell,
Delta 5,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.