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 Solomon Islands and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Warren Ellis to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Skaos,
The Residents,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suburban Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
The Toasters,
Neil Young,
K-Klass,
Vladislav Delay,
Cal Tjader,
Scientists,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Y Pants,
The Dirtbombs,
The Moody Blues,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Gap Band,
Franke,
Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Sneak,
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
Harmonia,
Joyce Sims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Circle Jerks,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
Trumans Water,
The Last Poets,
June of 44,
Crime,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Darondo,
Don Cherry,
Arab on Radar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scratch Acid,
Barry Ungar,
Schoolly D,
Angry Samoans,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gang Starr,
a-ha,
Visage,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Motions,
The Vogues,
Royal Trux,
The Neon Judgement,
Yazoo,
Yusef Lateef,
FM Einheit,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.