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 Mali and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Alton Ellis to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Star Department. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Marine Girls,
Jacques Brel,
Dawn Penn,
The American Breed,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Gladiators,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Deepchord,
China Crisis,
Intrusion,
Blake Baxter,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Bananas,
The New Christs,
Scion,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Radiohead,
Kaleidoscope,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Camberwell Now,
Pantytec,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeff Mills,
Eric Dolphy,
Fluxion,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxette,
Pylon,
Kerri Chandler,
The Walker Brothers,
Suicide,
Sonic Youth,
Surgeon,
The Pop Group,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
Ossler,
Newcleus,
Matthew Halsall,
New Order,
The Flesh Eaters,
Von Mondo,
Adolescents,
Cheater Slicks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bootsy Collins,
Arcadia,
MDC,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fire Engines,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dirtbombs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swell Maps,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks.
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.