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 Poland and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Saints to the grime 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
the Human League,
Porter Ricks,
Drexciya,
Arcadia,
Swell Maps,
X-Ray Spex,
Soft Cell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Masters at Work,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Red Krayola,
David Axelrod,
Essential Logic,
The Star Department,
Easy Going,
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Quando Quango,
Traffic Nightmare,
R.M.O.,
Y Pants,
Interpol,
Mission of Burma,
Arab on Radar,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
The Buckinghams,
Marvin Gaye,
The American Breed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
Duran Duran,
Young Marble Giants,
Connie Case,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roy Ayers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Alison Limerick,
John Coltrane,
The Leaves,
Accadde A,
Aaron Thompson,
Aswad,
Yazoo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Siglo XX,
Steve Hackett,
Slick Rick,
Janne Schatter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Hill,
Saccharine Trust,
Cameo,
Crooked Eye,
Symarip,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.