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 Bulgaria and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Camberwell Now to the crunk 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All It's A Beautiful Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Technova,
Black Moon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bush Tetras,
Cameo,
Can,
the Slits,
Rakim,
Barbara Tucker,
Lyres,
Prince Buster,
La Düsseldorf,
Qualms,
Boz Scaggs,
Shoche,
Dead Boys,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Wings,
Soul II Soul,
Black Flag,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sugar Minott,
Tomorrow,
Pantytec,
48th St. Collective,
Surgeon,
The Techniques,
Crispy Ambulance,
Spandau Ballet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Livin' Joy,
David Axelrod,
Grey Daturas,
Slave,
Minutemen,
Television,
The J.B.'s,
Guru Guru,
FM Einheit,
World's Most,
The Standells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Intrusion,
Glenn Branca,
Electric Prunes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pussy Galore,
The Raincoats,
The Selecter,
Animal Collective,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers,
Amazonics,
The Vogues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Mummies,
The Black Dice,
Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell, Kerrie Biddell.
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.