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 Dominican Republic and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Altered Images to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ludus,
Adolescents,
Easy Going,
The Human League,
Eddi Front,
The Moody Blues,
Rapeman,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Agent Orange,
These Immortal Souls,
Wings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Patti Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Darondo,
Bill Near,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scion,
The Names,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Christie,
kango's stein massive,
Barry Ungar,
DJ Sneak,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Slick Rick,
Quando Quango,
Groovy Waters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Public Enemy,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fugazi,
Faust,
Gastr Del Sol,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sällskapet,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nirvana,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tears for Fears,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Carl Craig,
Ten City,
Rufus Thomas,
Gang Green,
Connie Case,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Residents,
The Gladiators,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chris & Cosey,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stetsasonic,
Black Sheep,
The Happenings,
Max Romeo,
The Stooges,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.