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 Poland and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and London.
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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Procol Harum to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Supertramp,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Doors,
Glenn Branca,
Moby Grape,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Neil Young,
Moss Icon,
Quando Quango,
Max Romeo,
Funkadelic,
The Moody Blues,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Human League,
Arthur Verocai,
Bronski Beat,
Shoche,
Cameo,
The Modern Lovers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Ronan,
the Slits,
Au Pairs,
Jacob Miller,
Little Man,
Royal Trux,
Radio Birdman,
Fela Kuti,
The Golliwogs,
MC5,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Make Up,
Angry Samoans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
Essential Logic,
the Bar-Kays,
Pole,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Mummies,
Cluster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ten City,
The Searchers,
Accadde A,
Fat Boys,
The Real Kids,
Joe Finger,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
Sonny Sharrock,
Guru Guru,
The Selecter,
Amazonics,
The Tremeloes,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.