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 South Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 Stooges to the punk 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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Minny Pops,
Vladislav Delay,
Fifty Foot Hose,
UT,
Lower 48,
Scratch Acid,
The American Breed,
The Fuzztones,
The Angels of Light,
Country Teasers,
Bill Wells,
Funkadelic,
The Cure,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dead Boys,
Television Personalities,
Colin Newman,
Black Bananas,
Erykah Badu,
The Names,
Alton Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
New York Dolls,
Glenn Branca,
Don Cherry,
Los Fastidios,
Accadde A,
Tres Demented,
Amon Düül,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
F. McDonald,
Gerry Rafferty,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Pussy Galore,
Mary Jane Girls,
Severed Heads,
Dark Day,
The Residents,
Pylon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Public Enemy,
Leonard Cohen,
Loose Ends,
Motorama,
Supertramp,
Cal Tjader,
Hasil Adkins,
ABC,
Symarip,
Chrome,
Graham Central Station,
The Gories,
Heaven 17,
Crash Course in Science,
The Smoke,
Absolute Body Control,
Patti Smith,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.