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 Lesotho and from Philadelphia.
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 Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Nas to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
The Trojans,
The Move,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Negative Approach,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gladiators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Panda Bear,
Isaac Hayes,
Porter Ricks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Slits,
The Remains,
Sister Nancy,
Rapeman,
Godley & Creme,
Erasure,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Royal Trux,
Swell Maps,
The Names,
the Swans,
Main Source,
Roger Hodgson,
Iggy Pop,
The Pretty Things,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
Goldenarms,
World's Most,
The Victims,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Robert Hood,
Groovy Waters,
Al Stewart,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dennis Brown,
The Fire Engines,
Index,
The Evens,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
The Selecter,
Sam Rivers,
Masters at Work,
The Cure,
Nirvana,
The Smoke,
The American Breed,
Reuben Wilson,
Rufus Thomas,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.