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 Seychelles and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Hardrive to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Intrusion,
Suburban Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Rekid,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Wasted Youth,
Angry Samoans,
Sex Pistols,
Television,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Glenn Branca,
Barry Ungar,
Roger Hodgson,
Jawbox,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Bob Dylan,
Livin' Joy,
Cluster,
Panda Bear,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Bananas,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Fire Engines,
The Durutti Column,
Bill Near,
Moss Icon,
Sugar Minott,
Duran Duran,
Oneida,
Kenny Larkin,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Holt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Happenings,
The Human League,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Young Rascals,
Crooked Eye,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
Patti Smith,
Eddi Front,
Drive Like Jehu,
Mad Mike,
Brass Construction,
DNA,
Flipper,
Franke,
Neil Young,
Fela Kuti,
Cameo,
Au Pairs,
Crime,
Kas Product,
Simply Red,
Barclay James Harvest,
Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet, Faraquet.
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.