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 Poland and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Roger Hodgson,
The Golliwogs,
Minutemen,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Wells,
Sister Nancy,
Von Mondo,
The Evens,
Mandrill,
New Order,
The Blackbyrds,
Scan 7,
The Sonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Nirvana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eve St. Jones,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
Chris Corsano,
Clear Light,
Tres Demented,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
Reagan Youth,
Graham Central Station,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Fela Kuti,
Slave,
Bronski Beat,
The Sound,
Das Ding,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aural Exciters,
The Real Kids,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Young Rascals,
Connie Case,
Hardrive,
Kool Moe Dee,
Crooked Eye,
Tom Boy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Robert Görl,
Liliput,
Tim Buckley,
The Music Machine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Slick Rick,
Infiniti,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harpers Bizarre,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.