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 Swaziland and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord 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 Swans to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Byrd,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
Johnny Osbourne,
E-Dancer,
Bluetip,
Eric Copeland,
Leonard Cohen,
The Durutti Column,
Sonny Sharrock,
Monolake,
Bill Near,
Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Depeche Mode,
Dawn Penn,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Residents,
Dark Day,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
Kas Product,
Boz Scaggs,
Minutemen,
Gastr Del Sol,
Tubeway Army,
Crooked Eye,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Terry Callier,
Marine Girls,
Gichy Dan,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Shoche,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Von Mondo,
Lou Christie,
FM Einheit,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Angry Samoans,
Swell Maps,
Unrelated Segments,
Cymande,
PIL,
Porter Ricks,
Funky Four + One,
Sandy B,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Roger Hodgson,
Lower 48,
Gang Green,
Thompson Twins,
Sixth Finger,
Mantronix,
Clear Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Normal,
The Skatalites,
Joe Smooth,
Max Romeo,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.