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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
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 Steve Hackett to the dance 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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stereo Dub,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slits,
The Litter,
Sun Ra,
Agitation Free,
Panda Bear,
The Angels of Light,
Grandmaster Flash,
Loose Ends,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tubeway Army,
Boredoms,
Frankie Knuckles,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
Michelle Simonal,
Warsaw,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Faust,
Sam Rivers,
David Bowie,
Robert Hood,
8 Eyed Spy,
Excepter,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sugar Minott,
Nik Kershaw,
Skriet,
Roxette,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Das Ding,
Curtis Mayfield,
Dual Sessions,
The Fire Engines,
the Association,
Carl Craig,
Alton Ellis,
The Sonics,
Cecil Taylor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kaleidoscope,
Gastr Del Sol,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
The Monks,
Infiniti,
Albert Ayler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Visage,
The Moleskins,
Kerri Chandler,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wolf Eyes,
Mo-Dettes,
Thee Headcoats,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.