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 Libya and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Los Fastidios to the crunk 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Danielle Patucci,
Pet Shop Boys,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Harry Pussy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chris & Cosey,
The Pretty Things,
Ossler,
CMW,
Deadbeat,
Monks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mars,
Supertramp,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pharoah Sanders,
Altered Images,
Technova,
Robert Görl,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fortunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Misunderstood,
Pagans,
Reagan Youth,
John Cale,
Cheater Slicks,
Tears for Fears,
Nas,
Tomorrow,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minor Threat,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kurtis Blow,
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
OOIOO,
Johnny Clarke,
Scan 7,
MC5,
John Lydon,
Das Ding,
Erasure,
Talk Talk,
Porter Ricks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pole,
Peter & Gordon,
Minutemen,
Ornette Coleman,
MDC,
Circle Jerks,
Reuben Wilson,
Black Moon,
Agent Orange,
Amon Düül,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.