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 Saudi Arabia and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Harry Pussy to the rock 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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pulsallama record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Visage,
Lucky Dragons,
Wally Richardson,
Gong,
Bill Wells,
Camouflage,
These Immortal Souls,
Adolescents,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Simply Red,
Kenny Larkin,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kerrie Biddell,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Delon & Dalcan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultimate Spinach,
Symarip,
Audionom,
Johnny Clarke,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Cale,
Section 25,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
The Cowsills,
Lyres,
Derrick May,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rekid,
The Fugs,
Echospace,
Aural Exciters,
a-ha,
Panda Bear,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
DJ Sneak,
Brick,
Electric Prunes,
Radiopuhelimet,
Schoolly D,
Hot Snakes,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Raincoats,
Godley & Creme,
The Dirtbombs,
Fear,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cluster,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pantaleimon,
Susan Cadogan,
Rotary Connection,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.