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 Denmark and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Litter to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Popol Vuh,
Bronski Beat,
Jacques Brel,
Lyres,
The Standells,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
Maleditus Sound,
Severed Heads,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultimate Spinach,
UT,
Franke,
Thee Headcoats,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Japan,
a-ha,
MDC,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dawn Penn,
Sound Behaviour,
Davy DMX,
Rapeman,
Fear,
Mary Jane Girls,
Audionom,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Can,
R.M.O.,
the Fania All-Stars,
Fort Wilson Riot,
ABC,
JFA,
Pierre Henry,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Angels of Light,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Animal Collective,
Soft Cell,
Brick,
Moebius,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Shadows of Knight,
Wasted Youth,
Ronan,
Swans,
Chris Corsano,
FM Einheit,
Mars,
Lungfish,
The Vogues,
Scan 7,
These Immortal Souls,
The Smoke,
Whodini,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.