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 Russia and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Aaron Thompson to the grime 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
a-ha,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Velvet Underground,
the Swans,
Sonny Sharrock,
Todd Rundgren,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soft Machine,
Neu!,
X-101,
The Fire Engines,
Pere Ubu,
Eric Dolphy,
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
Godley & Creme,
Cluster,
Monolake,
Visage,
Bobby Sherman,
The Seeds,
Susan Cadogan,
New Order,
JFA,
Eddi Front,
Marine Girls,
Technova,
Country Teasers,
Tres Demented,
Maurizio,
Camouflage,
Mission of Burma,
Second Layer,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ohio Players,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hoover,
The Techniques,
Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brass Construction,
John Holt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Byron Stingily,
Barry Ungar,
Faraquet,
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fuzztones,
Albert Ayler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Residents,
Danielle Patucci,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Isaac Hayes,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.