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 Somalia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 rhodes 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the techno 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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Yellowson,
Magazine,
Bluetip,
Letta Mbulu,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
8 Eyed Spy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Girls At Our Best!,
Crime,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Amon Düül,
Bauhaus,
Skriet,
Bobby Womack,
Rotary Connection,
Johnny Clarke,
Gastr Del Sol,
Suicide,
Wally Richardson,
John Lydon,
Pylon,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lyres,
Darondo,
Idris Muhammad,
Angry Samoans,
John Cale,
The Blackbyrds,
Black Flag,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Moleskins,
Index,
Danielle Patucci,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
The Happenings,
the Human League,
Erykah Badu,
Arthur Verocai,
the Slits,
Sällskapet,
Subhumans,
The Index,
Agitation Free,
Faraquet,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suburban Knight,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
The Gun Club,
the Normal,
Althea and Donna,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective, 48th St. Collective.
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.