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 Qatar and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 United States of America to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Youth Brigade,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minutemen,
Au Pairs,
Spoonie Gee,
R.M.O.,
Fat Boys,
Dual Sessions,
The Neon Judgement,
Rotary Connection,
Underground Resistance,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Young Rascals,
Maleditus Sound,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kas Product,
Scott Walker,
Parry Music,
Pylon,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Anthony Braxton,
Desert Stars,
Maurizio,
Harmonia,
The Tremeloes,
Camberwell Now,
Adolescents,
The Gap Band,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
D'Angelo,
The Electric Prunes,
Eddi Front,
Althea and Donna,
The Victims,
Skaos,
Stereo Dub,
Warsaw,
Icehouse,
New Age Steppers,
The Motions,
The Modern Lovers,
Thompson Twins,
Gang Green,
Rekid,
Faraquet,
Black Flag,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Isaac Hayes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Niagra,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
Sonic Youth,
The Cowsills,
X-Ray Spex,
Alton Ellis,
The Names,
Minor Threat,
The Dead C,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud, Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud.
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.