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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron 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 Pagans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Amon Düül,
Bootsy Collins,
The Red Krayola,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Howard Jones,
Tim Buckley,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Camouflage,
Shuggie Otis,
Schoolly D,
Slick Rick,
Monolake,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Star Department,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jacob Miller,
Gichy Dan,
The Smiths,
Amon Düül II,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lower 48,
Lyres,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Harry Pussy,
Banda Bassotti,
Television Personalities,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Amazonics,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Sneak,
Pole,
Tres Demented,
In Retrospect,
Mission of Burma,
Guru Guru,
Dual Sessions,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monks,
MC5,
Bang On A Can,
the Germs,
H. Thieme,
Fluxion,
The Pop Group,
The Offenders,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lindisfarne,
Black Sheep,
Warren Ellis,
Scion,
Hasil Adkins,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
The Moleskins,
Electric Prunes,
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.