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 Grenada and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Robert Palmer 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 T. Rex to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Main Source record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
China Crisis,
Tubeway Army,
Anakelly,
Radio Birdman,
Vladislav Delay,
Thompson Twins,
The Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
The Litter,
The American Breed,
Tears for Fears,
L. Decosne,
The United States of America,
Inner City,
Second Layer,
Scion,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scott Walker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hashim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Toasters,
Oblivians,
Pantytec,
Donald Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronan,
Terry Callier,
Accadde A,
Amazonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Foxx,
Crime,
Malaria!,
Skarface,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The New Christs,
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
Aloha Tigers,
Todd Rundgren,
The Residents,
Lebanon Hanover,
MDC,
The Fuzztones,
Andrew Hill,
The Gladiators,
Eric Copeland,
Mark Hollis,
Juan Atkins,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nils Olav,
Mad Mike,
Funkadelic,
June of 44,
New York Dolls,
Archie Shepp,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
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.