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 Lebanon and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Soul II Soul to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Raincoats,
John Foxx,
the Sonics,
Josef K,
Hot Snakes,
Parry Music,
Alice Coltrane,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Rapeman,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Black Dice,
Crash Course in Science,
Crime,
Flipper,
Davy DMX,
Make Up,
New Age Steppers,
Darondo,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lucky Dragons,
Q65,
Interpol,
Spandau Ballet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joensuu 1685,
Grauzone,
Sight & Sound,
Neil Young,
The Slackers,
Aloha Tigers,
Depeche Mode,
The Fuzztones,
B.T. Express,
Wally Richardson,
John Coltrane,
Deepchord,
The Human League,
Soft Machine,
Clear Light,
Steve Hackett,
Procol Harum,
Marmalade,
The Toasters,
Warren Ellis,
The Pretty Things,
PIL,
Fatback Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
Howard Jones,
Lightning Bolt,
Zero Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Marvin Gaye,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sister Nancy,
Tears for Fears,
Black Flag,
the Swans,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultra Naté,
Wolf Eyes,
Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller, Jacob Miller.
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.