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 Singapore and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Monks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Mr. Review tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alton Ellis,
Icehouse,
The Wake,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
Rekid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-101,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
Terrestrial Tones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
E-Dancer,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Q and Not U,
The Pretty Things,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bill Near,
Jandek,
Second Layer,
The Index,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Pet Shop Boys,
Japan,
the Germs,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Selecter,
Basic Channel,
Echospace,
Warsaw,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Bowie,
Electric Prunes,
Althea and Donna,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Al Stewart,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
ABBA,
Ossler,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Charles Mingus,
Procol Harum,
Boz Scaggs,
Negative Approach,
The Beau Brummels,
Lucky Dragons,
Archie Shepp,
This Heat,
Depeche Mode,
The Slackers,
Inner City,
Harmonia,
Youth Brigade,
Swell Maps,
OOIOO,
Johnny Clarke,
Chris & Cosey,
Delon & Dalcan,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.