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 Nauru and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 the Fania All-Stars to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Tears for Fears,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Easy Going,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Cluster,
Jerry's Kids,
Susan Cadogan,
The American Breed,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Eric B and Rakim,
Glenn Branca,
Maleditus Sound,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
Joy Division,
Marc Almond,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Scrapy,
Matthew Halsall,
Goldenarms,
Glambeats Corp.,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tres Demented,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cramps,
Nico,
Jandek,
Sound Behaviour,
Maurizio,
Brand Nubian,
the Soft Cell,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang of Four,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soul Sonic Force,
Niagra,
Michelle Simonal,
Dawn Penn,
Ultimate Spinach,
Circle Jerks,
Bobby Womack,
Black Moon,
The Seeds,
a-ha,
June of 44,
Pole,
Magma,
The Doobie Brothers,
Pylon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dead Boys,
Mr. Review,
The Pop Group,
La Düsseldorf,
Surgeon,
The Smiths,
Max Romeo,
The Five Americans,
Grauzone,
Suburban Knight,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.