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 Paraguay and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Music Machine to the crunk 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
The New Christs,
CMW,
Rakim,
In Retrospect,
Franke,
Sällskapet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Yazoo,
Mars,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Joensuu 1685,
K-Klass,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Barry Ungar,
Marmalade,
The Golliwogs,
Brothers Johnson,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
The Seeds,
OOIOO,
Amazonics,
The Modern Lovers,
Wasted Youth,
Amon Düül,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Swans,
Steve Hackett,
Idris Muhammad,
Camberwell Now,
June Days,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Tremeloes,
Mo-Dettes,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Sherman,
The Happenings,
Vladislav Delay,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Crooked Eye,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eric Copeland,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultravox,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Newcleus,
The Birthday Party,
Black Flag,
Neu!,
Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Siouxsie and the Banshees.
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.