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 Bahamas and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Smog to the rock 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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
John Coltrane,
Inner City,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Maurizio,
The Remains,
Tom Boy,
Duran Duran,
Maleditus Sound,
Heaven 17,
Sällskapet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Todd Terry,
8 Eyed Spy,
Yusef Lateef,
Liliput,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Gladiators,
The Buckinghams,
Fear,
Flash Fearless,
Bluetip,
Minutemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang On A Can,
Swell Maps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Organ,
Mark Hollis,
Simply Red,
Icehouse,
Scion,
The Moleskins,
The Alarm Clocks,
Goldenarms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Freddie Wadling,
The Durutti Column,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cameo,
Radiopuhelimet,
ABBA,
Lou Reed,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Lynne,
Derrick May,
Wasted Youth,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Idris Muhammad,
Nick Fraelich,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aural Exciters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fad Gadget,
Guru Guru,
The Fuzztones,
Peter & Gordon,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.