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 Brazil and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 harpsichord 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 Sexual Harrassment to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dead Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
The Kinks,
Scrapy,
Yusef Lateef,
Connie Case,
Donald Byrd,
Ice-T,
Tommy Roe,
DJ Style,
Bill Near,
Lightning Bolt,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alice Coltrane,
Franke,
The Red Krayola,
Amon Düül,
Traffic Nightmare,
Clear Light,
New Order,
The Music Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
June Days,
Smog,
the Germs,
MC5,
Barry Ungar,
Rites of Spring,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics,
Monolake,
Sixth Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wire,
Matthew Bourne,
Scratch Acid,
Maurizio,
cv313,
La Düsseldorf,
Reagan Youth,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Vainqueur,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Terry Callier,
MDC,
Hardrive,
Thompson Twins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lucky Dragons,
Leonard Cohen,
Amon Düül II,
Quadrant,
The Divine Comedy,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.