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 Australia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar 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 In Retrospect to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flamin' Groovies 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 spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The Five Americans,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Anthony Braxton,
Sex Pistols,
B.T. Express,
Sight & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The American Breed,
The Last Poets,
Pantytec,
Don Cherry,
the Slits,
Funkadelic,
Severed Heads,
Bill Wells,
The Golliwogs,
The Dirtbombs,
Peter & Gordon,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
The Stooges,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Derrick May,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Laurel Aitken,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Scan 7,
Soul II Soul,
Max Romeo,
Warren Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jandek,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lyres,
Cymande,
Nik Kershaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
Magma,
Barry Ungar,
Eric Dolphy,
John Holt,
Zero Boys,
Nico,
Rufus Thomas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Neu!,
Negative Approach,
Icehouse,
Electric Prunes,
The Remains,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cecil Taylor,
EPMD,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.