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 Paraguay and from Portland.
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 Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sparks to the electroclash 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ludus,
The Gun Club,
Nik Kershaw,
Harmonia,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Kinks,
Shuggie Otis,
Ultra Naté,
Neu!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
Cluster,
Donald Byrd,
Wasted Youth,
Nico,
Gang of Four,
The Red Krayola,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Motions,
Morten Harket,
The Cramps,
Glambeats Corp.,
Easy Going,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tim Buckley,
Ornette Coleman,
Alice Coltrane,
The Human League,
Gang Gang Dance,
Essential Logic,
Technova,
Lungfish,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Gories,
Roxette,
Swans,
The Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
DJ Style,
Motorama,
Chrome,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Masters at Work,
Pharoah Sanders,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Last Poets,
Byron Stingily,
The Tremeloes,
Bluetip,
Rufus Thomas,
The Trojans,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.