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 Tuvalu and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Reuben Wilson to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Wire,
Procol Harum,
kango's stein massive,
Anakelly,
Popol Vuh,
Rakim,
Vladislav Delay,
Eddi Front,
Peter & Gordon,
Radiohead,
The Blackbyrds,
Lou Reed,
The Invisible,
Lower 48,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
The Moleskins,
Kenny Larkin,
Sex Pistols,
Dark Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Scion,
Silicon Teens,
MC5,
Q and Not U,
The Martian,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Teasers,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Dead C,
Tubeway Army,
Quantec,
Little Man,
Heaven 17,
The American Breed,
Symarip,
Los Fastidios,
The Associates,
Joyce Sims,
Yaz,
Letta Mbulu,
The Tremeloes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Livin' Joy,
The Five Americans,
L. Decosne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Golliwogs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Duran Duran,
Panda Bear,
Qualms,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Public Enemy,
Wings,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.