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 Afghanistan and from Taipei.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Flesh Eaters to the punk 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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roger Hodgson,
Faust,
John Cale,
The Pretty Things,
Eurythmics,
Mark Hollis,
Alice Coltrane,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Skatalites,
Joe Finger,
Moby Grape,
Rapeman,
Minnie Riperton,
Unwound,
Kayak,
Tubeway Army,
Gang Gang Dance,
Circle Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints,
Kurtis Blow,
The Misunderstood,
Bad Manners,
Toni Rubio,
Marcia Griffiths,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
Warren Ellis,
Graham Central Station,
Sonic Youth,
Black Bananas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Derrick May,
Niagra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
ABBA,
The Last Poets,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Divine Comedy,
Aaron Thompson,
D'Angelo,
Surgeon,
The Move,
Black Flag,
cv313,
Laurel Aitken,
Thee Headcoats,
Tom Boy,
Maleditus Sound,
The Residents,
Gong,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Mills,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.