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 Belize and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Fortunes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Lungfish,
L. Decosne,
Wings,
The Move,
Rekid,
Flamin' Groovies,
Colin Newman,
Newcleus,
Marvin Gaye,
Bill Wells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Interpol,
Archie Shepp,
Iggy Pop,
Sam Rivers,
Albert Ayler,
The Fuzztones,
Al Stewart,
Lucky Dragons,
Nils Olav,
The Seeds,
The Smoke,
Talk Talk,
James White and The Blacks,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobby Byrd,
Darondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun City Girls,
New Order,
Camberwell Now,
Lower 48,
Blancmange,
These Immortal Souls,
Altered Images,
H. Thieme,
Neu!,
The Sound,
Mars,
Circle Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pole,
David Axelrod,
Ultimate Spinach,
Joey Negro,
Minor Threat,
Cecil Taylor,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mary Jane Girls,
Patti Smith,
Intrusion,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Trumans Water,
the Germs,
Laurel Aitken,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter and Kerry,
Model 500,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.