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 Mauritania and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Portland.
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 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 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 Bush Tetras to the crunk 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool Moe Dee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Janne Schatter,
Black Moon,
Bauhaus,
Bill Near,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
The Motions,
Absolute Body Control,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Archie Shepp,
The American Breed,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Royal Trux,
Barbara Tucker,
Grey Daturas,
DNA,
Japan,
Leonard Cohen,
Suburban Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Chris Corsano,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacob Miller,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Young Marble Giants,
The Human League,
The Busters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Saccharine Trust,
The Selecter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lindisfarne,
Terry Callier,
The Martian,
Susan Cadogan,
Blossom Toes,
Ituana,
Moby Grape,
Ronan,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sonny Sharrock,
Procol Harum,
Al Stewart,
Jawbox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Depeche Mode,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fad Gadget,
Eddi Front,
OOIOO,
The Standells,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New York Dolls,
Duran Duran,
Nik Kershaw,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.