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 Belarus and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
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 spring reverb 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 Neon Judgement to the grunge 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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Slackers,
Joensuu 1685,
Terry Callier,
Minny Pops,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Evens,
Reuben Wilson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Absolute Body Control,
Shuggie Otis,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
U.S. Maple,
James White and The Blacks,
Steve Hackett,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Avey Tare,
Vladislav Delay,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
June Days,
The Fuzztones,
The Durutti Column,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sound,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
David Axelrod,
The Associates,
Bluetip,
Joyce Sims,
Darondo,
Pere Ubu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Todd Rundgren,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Ken Boothe,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chris Corsano,
Wally Richardson,
Country Teasers,
Unwound,
Gichy Dan,
The Victims,
Bronski Beat,
The Sonics,
The Music Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joy Division,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deakin,
Make Up,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gang of Four,
Severed Heads,
Bill Wells,
Newcleus,
Erasure,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.