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 Iraq and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the punk 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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Motorama,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Procol Harum,
LL Cool J,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Man Parrish,
Eurythmics,
Iggy Pop,
Boz Scaggs,
Reuben Wilson,
Piero Umiliani,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Easy Going,
Janne Schatter,
Thompson Twins,
Erasure,
Urselle,
The Residents,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Accadde A,
In Retrospect,
Desert Stars,
Popol Vuh,
The Searchers,
OOIOO,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
The Seeds,
Bush Tetras,
Fela Kuti,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane,
Michelle Simonal,
Hashim,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
kango's stein massive,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
Davy DMX,
Ronnie Foster,
Buzzcocks,
Junior Murvin,
Glambeats Corp.,
Leonard Cohen,
The Young Rascals,
Mad Mike,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
Roxy Music,
Ken Boothe,
Eli Mardock,
Fort Wilson Riot,
DNA,
Howard Jones,
Faust,
Average White Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Josef K,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.