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 Russia and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 X-102 to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dorothy Ashby record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Pop Group,
Intrusion,
The Move,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
The J.B.'s,
Sällskapet,
The Walker Brothers,
Stetsasonic,
The Blackbyrds,
Judy Mowatt,
The Dirtbombs,
Moss Icon,
Absolute Body Control,
Pagans,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Wells,
the Slits,
Average White Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Skatalites,
Wally Richardson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Gun Club,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rekid,
Public Enemy,
Sam Rivers,
Bob Dylan,
Ice-T,
Fad Gadget,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Television,
Severed Heads,
Joy Division,
X-Ray Spex,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeff Mills,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Zapp,
the Germs,
La Düsseldorf,
Ken Boothe,
The Fuzztones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sisters of Mercy,
B.T. Express,
The Durutti Column,
Au Pairs,
The Buckinghams,
Radiohead,
the Association,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Anakelly,
Swans,
Nico,
The Litter,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.