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 Kiribati and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Gun Club to the rap 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Fear,
Roger Hodgson,
The Sonics,
Television,
Theoretical Girls,
Chris & Cosey,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aswad,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lindisfarne,
Harry Pussy,
Quadrant,
Flipper,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Victims,
Warren Ellis,
The Durutti Column,
Icehouse,
Negative Approach,
Surgeon,
Masters at Work,
The Gladiators,
DJ Style,
Kerrie Biddell,
Swans,
MC5,
Moebius,
Supertramp,
Jandek,
X-102,
Dead Boys,
Pussy Galore,
The Last Poets,
The Stooges,
Stetsasonic,
UT,
Y Pants,
The Fire Engines,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Parry Music,
Gang Green,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Sam Rivers,
Cheater Slicks,
Blossom Toes,
Brothers Johnson,
Al Stewart,
Judy Mowatt,
The Motions,
Heaven 17,
Saccharine Trust,
kango's stein massive,
Metal Thangz,
Quando Quango,
Amon Düül,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest, Barclay James Harvest.
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.