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 Czech Republic and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun Ra to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Gichy Dan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Zeros,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Arab on Radar,
Marc Almond,
Skarface,
Toni Rubio,
Faust,
Underground Resistance,
Desert Stars,
Scion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Kinks,
Siglo XX,
the Normal,
Glambeats Corp.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arcadia,
Maurizio,
Bill Wells,
Ken Boothe,
Chris Corsano,
Severed Heads,
Ten City,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Drive Like Jehu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spoonie Gee,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angry Samoans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
In Retrospect,
Harpers Bizarre,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June of 44,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
The Gap Band,
Cameo,
Soft Cell,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
John Cale,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronan,
The Evens,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sister Nancy,
Jacques Brel,
Easy Going,
Matthew Halsall,
Minny Pops,
Television,
The Young Rascals,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
10cc,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.