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 Luxembourg and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
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 linndrum 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 Deadbeat to the funk 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
The Electric Prunes,
Suicide,
Qualms,
Sam Rivers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Schoolly D,
Royal Trux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Darondo,
The Modern Lovers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fortunes,
Negative Approach,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Delta 5,
Pole,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Coltrane,
the Human League,
The Real Kids,
Ronnie Foster,
Delon & Dalcan,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Malaria!,
Unrelated Segments,
Pere Ubu,
KRS-One,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cowsills,
48th St. Collective,
Tres Demented,
Moby Grape,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jacques Brel,
Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Moebius,
Television,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang of Four,
Quando Quango,
Parry Music,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eli Mardock,
A Certain Ratio,
Babytalk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Flag,
Rosa Yemen,
Rakim,
The Standells,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boredoms,
Q65,
Dave Gahan,
Buzzcocks,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.