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 Cyprus and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Eve St. Jones to the dance 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Anakelly,
Scott Walker,
Judy Mowatt,
Duran Duran,
Warsaw,
Drexciya,
The Happenings,
The Dead C,
Brick,
MC5,
Liliput,
Reuben Wilson,
FM Einheit,
Aloha Tigers,
Pere Ubu,
Davy DMX,
The Selecter,
One Last Wish,
The Velvet Underground,
Groovy Waters,
The Dirtbombs,
Procol Harum,
R.M.O.,
Malaria!,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Sneak,
Graham Central Station,
Warren Ellis,
Sugar Minott,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Todd Terry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ituana,
Colin Newman,
Skaos,
Curtis Mayfield,
Qualms,
Agitation Free,
La Düsseldorf,
Donald Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Funky Four + One,
Dawn Penn,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Minny Pops,
Blancmange,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
Easy Going,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Moon,
Radiopuhelimet,
Y Pants,
AZ,
Q and Not U,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Slits,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.