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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Visage to the punk 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 The Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul Sonic Force record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Model 500,
Harmonia,
Rufus Thomas,
Zapp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tubeway Army,
Gong,
Sex Pistols,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Funkadelic,
The New Christs,
Clear Light,
Inner City,
Althea and Donna,
Scott Walker,
Wasted Youth,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fad Gadget,
Sandy B,
Fat Boys,
Jandek,
Matthew Halsall,
Joyce Sims,
The Dead C,
Fluxion,
Can,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
Mars,
The Count Five,
Trumans Water,
KRS-One,
Yaz,
B.T. Express,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
E-Dancer,
Lebanon Hanover,
Freddie Wadling,
The Divine Comedy,
Amon Düül II,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Porter Ricks,
Roy Ayers,
The Standells,
The American Breed,
Eli Mardock,
Mad Mike,
Bill Near,
OOIOO,
Con Funk Shun,
The Detroit Cobras,
Technova,
Delon & Dalcan,
One Last Wish,
The Grass Roots,
Erykah Badu,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.