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 Belgium and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the punk 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Wasted Youth,
Quadrant,
Bobby Sherman,
Can,
Iggy Pop,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bluetip,
Gang of Four,
Stereo Dub,
Gregory Isaacs,
Underground Resistance,
Easy Going,
Grandmaster Flash,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Green,
The Human League,
the Sonics,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ronnie Foster,
Sarah Menescal,
Glenn Branca,
Skriet,
L. Decosne,
Inner City,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pole,
Subhumans,
Donald Byrd,
Brick,
Mission of Burma,
Visage,
Robert Görl,
The New Christs,
The Barracudas,
a-ha,
Idris Muhammad,
The Modern Lovers,
Archie Shepp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pantytec,
The Dave Clark Five,
Amon Düül,
Guru Guru,
Deadbeat,
Rosa Yemen,
Alice Coltrane,
China Crisis,
Magazine,
Janne Schatter,
The Buckinghams,
Black Moon,
Susan Cadogan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Swans,
Half Japanese,
Chris & Cosey,
Pantaleimon,
Gang Starr,
Bad Manners,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.