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 Ireland and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Drexciya,
The Wake,
Albert Ayler,
Johnny Clarke,
Delon & Dalcan,
Aswad,
Curtis Mayfield,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Count Five,
Fear,
Cluster,
The Skatalites,
Stereo Dub,
The Toasters,
Supertramp,
Royal Trux,
Babytalk,
Loose Ends,
John Lydon,
FM Einheit,
Glambeats Corp.,
DNA,
Sällskapet,
Carl Craig,
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
PIL,
The Modern Lovers,
Pussy Galore,
Magma,
Con Funk Shun,
Bobby Womack,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gun Club,
Warsaw,
Monolake,
Young Marble Giants,
Leonard Cohen,
Electric Prunes,
Model 500,
The Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Roxy Music,
Altered Images,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Flesh Eaters,
Flash Fearless,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fire Engines,
Quando Quango,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Walker Brothers,
Arcadia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wally Richardson,
Wasted Youth,
Radio Birdman,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.