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 United States and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Blancmange to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
Index,
Tears for Fears,
Harry Pussy,
Delta 5,
the Bar-Kays,
David Axelrod,
R.M.O.,
Moss Icon,
The Stooges,
Lower 48,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Doors,
Los Fastidios,
Sex Pistols,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
Agent Orange,
Alton Ellis,
New York Dolls,
Kayak,
Robert Hood,
Funky Four + One,
Deadbeat,
Easy Going,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott Heron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jandek,
Surgeon,
Matthew Bourne,
World's Most,
The Golliwogs,
The Slits,
Television Personalities,
Carl Craig,
Groovy Waters,
Radiopuhelimet,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eden Ahbez,
Cameo,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Raincoats,
the Normal,
Yusef Lateef,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Wyatt,
Guru Guru,
The Beau Brummels,
John Lydon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lightning Bolt,
Banda Bassotti,
Sugar Minott,
Lou Reed,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scan 7,
The Sonics,
Youth Brigade,
Jerry's Kids,
Essential Logic,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.