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 Togo and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro 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 Black Dice to the rock 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Motions,
Loose Ends,
Funky Four + One,
Black Flag,
Desert Stars,
Circle Jerks,
Howard Jones,
Barrington Levy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mark Hollis,
Marmalade,
Terrestrial Tones,
Organ,
Eric Copeland,
Scrapy,
The Divine Comedy,
FM Einheit,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
Wally Richardson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Roy Ayers,
The Golliwogs,
Tomorrow,
Josef K,
Glenn Branca,
Royal Trux,
Interpol,
X-Ray Spex,
Fela Kuti,
The Red Krayola,
The Zeros,
Spandau Ballet,
The Raincoats,
La Düsseldorf,
Yazoo,
Ultravox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Max Romeo,
Moss Icon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Quantec,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reuben Wilson,
Q65,
Inner City,
The Beau Brummels,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Swans,
Pole,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ossler,
Black Pus,
The Skatalites,
Cluster,
Scratch Acid,
Graham Central Station,
Sam Rivers,
Sun Ra,
Brand Nubian,
Neil Young,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.