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 Egypt and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deakin to the techno 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Gong,
Todd Rundgren,
The Index,
Deadbeat,
Au Pairs,
JFA,
Hot Snakes,
The Angels of Light,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Warren Ellis,
Average White Band,
The Toasters,
Procol Harum,
Johnny Clarke,
Pylon,
Ronan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lindisfarne,
Depeche Mode,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cure,
Jacques Brel,
Barrington Levy,
Bad Manners,
Reagan Youth,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bob Dylan,
The Tremeloes,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moody Blues,
Adolescents,
Toni Rubio,
Yusef Lateef,
The Monks,
Barry Ungar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stetsasonic,
The Red Krayola,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric Copeland,
Max Romeo,
Motorama,
Soulsonic Force,
Avey Tare,
Soft Machine,
Chrome,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Robert Hood,
Groovy Waters,
The Saints,
Radio Birdman,
Audionom,
the Human League,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Vainqueur,
cv313,
Gregory Isaacs,
CMW,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.