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 Zimbabwe and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Malaria! to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swans,
Black Moon,
Funky Four + One,
Q and Not U,
The Walker Brothers,
Goldenarms,
The Sound,
Sex Pistols,
Marvin Gaye,
Youth Brigade,
The Techniques,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
Dawn Penn,
Joey Negro,
Connie Case,
Accadde A,
Slick Rick,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Reagan Youth,
Carl Craig,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Morten Harket,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pop Group,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fluxion,
Make Up,
The Smoke,
Neu!,
B.T. Express,
Harpers Bizarre,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Halsall,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nils Olav,
The Divine Comedy,
Mark Hollis,
A Certain Ratio,
Khruangbin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Finger,
Cymande,
Peter and Kerry,
Motorama,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Womack,
Quando Quango,
Urselle,
The Gories,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Roger Hodgson,
Fad Gadget,
Gabor Szabo,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.