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 Madagascar and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Idris Muhammad to the electroclash 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Metal Thangz,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Andrew Hill,
a-ha,
The Saints,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stiv Bators,
Circle Jerks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Michelle Simonal,
DNA,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bauhaus,
Dead Boys,
Soul II Soul,
Saccharine Trust,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
B.T. Express,
Pylon,
D'Angelo,
H. Thieme,
Danielle Patucci,
The Human League,
The Vogues,
Intrusion,
The Modern Lovers,
Deakin,
Arthur Verocai,
Tears for Fears,
Young Marble Giants,
The Kinks,
Black Bananas,
Franke,
Ken Boothe,
Negative Approach,
The Fortunes,
Joe Finger,
Altered Images,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
David Axelrod,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kenny Larkin,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scrapy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis, Warren Ellis.
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.