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 South Africa and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Brothers Johnson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
MC5,
The Busters,
Toni Rubio,
Mo-Dettes,
DNA,
The Motions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Absolute Body Control,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Letta Mbulu,
Arthur Verocai,
Warsaw,
Blancmange,
The Barracudas,
Lyres,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
Heaven 17,
Piero Umiliani,
Joyce Sims,
Whodini,
Deakin,
UT,
Supertramp,
The Victims,
Man Parrish,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
F. McDonald,
Quando Quango,
Tomorrow,
The Beau Brummels,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mantronix,
John Cale,
Rapeman,
R.M.O.,
cv313,
Zapp,
Faraquet,
Rosa Yemen,
Steve Hackett,
Accadde A,
The Selecter,
Livin' Joy,
The Associates,
Excepter,
The Saints,
Nik Kershaw,
Fluxion,
Black Bananas,
Albert Ayler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter and Kerry,
PIL,
Robert Görl,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roxy Music,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.