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 Albania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 John Cale 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Matthew Bourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Germs,
Audionom,
Grey Daturas,
Ohio Players,
Terrestrial Tones,
Infiniti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sound Behaviour,
The Neon Judgement,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brothers Johnson,
the Sonics,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
Todd Rundgren,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Maleditus Sound,
The Smoke,
Janne Schatter,
Amon Düül,
The Sonics,
Wolf Eyes,
JFA,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Accadde A,
The Modern Lovers,
James White and The Blacks,
Hashim,
Mantronix,
The Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Offenders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sugar Minott,
Dark Day,
Arcadia,
Bill Near,
Fluxion,
Inner City,
Funky Four + One,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
Angry Samoans,
Con Funk Shun,
Blancmange,
The Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dead Boys,
Deepchord,
the Slits,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
Vladislav Delay,
Loose Ends,
Lou Christie,
Jacques Brel,
Metal Thangz,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.