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 Sudan and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Desert Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Gong tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Wyatt,
Michelle Simonal,
The Angels of Light,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Inner City,
Harpers Bizarre,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
La Düsseldorf,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Massinfluence,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Royal Trux,
Subhumans,
Camouflage,
DJ Style,
Juan Atkins,
The Fugs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mad Mike,
Andrew Hill,
The Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Derrick May,
Banda Bassotti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boredoms,
The Skatalites,
The Moleskins,
Glenn Branca,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Dead C,
Animal Collective,
Ken Boothe,
X-Ray Spex,
The Barracudas,
Aural Exciters,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alison Limerick,
The New Christs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Schoolly D,
The Red Krayola,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Eyeless In Gaza,
James White and The Blacks,
Fad Gadget,
The United States of America,
Unwound,
The Cowsills,
Eli Mardock,
Jacob Miller,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
Flipper,
Sällskapet,
Qualms,
Man Parrish,
Arthur Verocai,
Bad Manners,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.