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 Eritrea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Lou Reed 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 DJ Sneak to the funk 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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
Talk Talk,
Prince Buster,
The United States of America,
Agent Orange,
Patti Smith,
Bobby Womack,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül II,
Scott Walker,
The Fortunes,
Wire,
Johnny Clarke,
Scion,
The Star Department,
Bill Near,
B.T. Express,
R.M.O.,
Carl Craig,
Kerri Chandler,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Erasure,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tears for Fears,
Liliput,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roxette,
Harpers Bizarre,
Icehouse,
UT,
Dark Day,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kas Product,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
a-ha,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Theoretical Girls,
The Mummies,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Man Parrish,
Negative Approach,
The Selecter,
The Zeros,
Franke,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiohead,
Neil Young,
Ohio Players,
The Durutti Column,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Swans,
Boredoms,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
John Lydon,
Gong,
Chrome,
The Busters,
The Gun Club,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.