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 Kazakhstan and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Freddie Wadling to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
Peter and Kerry,
Young Marble Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Metal Thangz,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
Urselle,
Model 500,
K-Klass,
Pantaleimon,
the Slits,
Dawn Penn,
Fear,
New York Dolls,
Tom Boy,
Mars,
The Fugs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Robert Wyatt,
Maleditus Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Monks,
The Saints,
The Music Machine,
Rotary Connection,
Newcleus,
UT,
Popol Vuh,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stetsasonic,
Bill Near,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
The Monochrome Set,
Dead Boys,
Porter Ricks,
The Residents,
Technova,
Monks,
Joe Smooth,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Erasure,
The New Christs,
Aloha Tigers,
Alphaville,
The Doors,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Slits,
Interpol,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gang Green,
Pussy Galore,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joey Negro,
Public Image Ltd.,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Happenings,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.