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 the UAE and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 New Age Steppers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Brick,
The Slits,
Deakin,
Black Sheep,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Tremeloes,
Ponytail,
Bill Near,
The Kinks,
Altered Images,
10cc,
X-102,
Accadde A,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lower 48,
Zapp,
Y Pants,
Reagan Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fela Kuti,
Black Pus,
Scan 7,
Brass Construction,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Andrew Hill,
The Move,
Throbbing Gristle,
Charles Mingus,
Byron Stingily,
Sexual Harrassment,
UT,
Kas Product,
Harmonia,
Mantronix,
Reuben Wilson,
Franke,
Laurel Aitken,
F. McDonald,
Archie Shepp,
Swans,
Half Japanese,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gun Club,
Bush Tetras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Skaos,
Soft Cell,
Banda Bassotti,
Bronski Beat,
Suicide,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Grass Roots,
Lungfish,
R.M.O.,
Magma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Vladislav Delay,
The Motions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.