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 Estonia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Cheater Slicks to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 B.T. Express. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronnie Foster,
Circle Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Angry Samoans,
ABBA,
Curtis Mayfield,
Stereo Dub,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Terry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Cameo,
Bronski Beat,
June of 44,
Make Up,
Ice-T,
Country Teasers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warsaw,
The Beau Brummels,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Newcleus,
Boz Scaggs,
Easy Going,
Radio Birdman,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Barracudas,
Nik Kershaw,
Television Personalities,
The Modern Lovers,
The Sonics,
Black Bananas,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
The Seeds,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Adolescents,
Excepter,
The Alarm Clocks,
Al Stewart,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Happenings,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joensuu 1685,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rufus Thomas,
Nico,
The Techniques,
The Monks,
Matthew Bourne,
The Moleskins,
Sarah Menescal,
Hasil Adkins,
Surgeon,
Lalann,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica, Lou Reed & Metallica.
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.