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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
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 rhodes 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 Skriet to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Neon Judgement record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Motorama,
Henry Cow,
Suburban Knight,
K-Klass,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
Von Mondo,
Aloha Tigers,
Sandy B,
DJ Style,
The Index,
Vainqueur,
Nas,
Marc Almond,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Human League,
The Last Poets,
The Walker Brothers,
Liliput,
X-Ray Spex,
Chris Corsano,
Black Moon,
Hardrive,
Scan 7,
Pierre Henry,
Shuggie Otis,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Trumans Water,
Glenn Branca,
The Tremeloes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Young Rascals,
Connie Case,
Sam Rivers,
Cal Tjader,
JFA,
Juan Atkins,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Monochrome Set,
Eve St. Jones,
Index,
Procol Harum,
FM Einheit,
Rod Modell,
Severed Heads,
T. Rex,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scientists,
Adolescents,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Blake Baxter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bill Near,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.