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 Canada and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 H. Thieme to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Organ,
Icehouse,
Average White Band,
MC5,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Simply Red,
Godley & Creme,
Tom Boy,
The Tremeloes,
Black Sheep,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Toni Rubio,
Todd Terry,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scratch Acid,
Minutemen,
Spoonie Gee,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Maurizio,
Johnny Clarke,
Angry Samoans,
John Foxx,
Porter Ricks,
The Red Krayola,
Roy Ayers,
kango's stein massive,
Slave,
Bush Tetras,
Mr. Review,
Young Marble Giants,
Schoolly D,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Christie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
New Order,
Panda Bear,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Brass Construction,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sister Nancy,
H. Thieme,
New York Dolls,
Rekid,
Trumans Water,
The Birthday Party,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Selecter,
Buzzcocks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Max Romeo,
Soft Machine,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.