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 Bahamas and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Tubeway Army to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Names,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
Oneida,
the Bar-Kays,
The Vogues,
Nirvana,
Von Mondo,
Glenn Branca,
The Neon Judgement,
The Alarm Clocks,
Suicide,
Barrington Levy,
Inner City,
The Modern Lovers,
Alphaville,
Colin Newman,
Scrapy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bauhaus,
Fugazi,
Laurel Aitken,
Lebanon Hanover,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Velvet Underground,
Slave,
Wally Richardson,
Flash Fearless,
X-102,
Monks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moebius,
The Trojans,
Wasted Youth,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Lucky Dragons,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Happenings,
Wings,
Flamin' Groovies,
Al Stewart,
The Seeds,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultra Naté,
Steve Hackett,
the Sonics,
Howard Jones,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme,
Lindisfarne,
The Index,
Ituana,
Pagans,
The Cramps,
Isaac Hayes,
Henry Cow,
Bluetip,
Rod Modell,
Bill Near,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.