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 Mauritius and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-Ray Spex to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Rapeman,
Black Bananas,
The United States of America,
John Lydon,
Boogie Down Productions,
Prince Buster,
Marmalade,
Excepter,
Shuggie Otis,
MC5,
Eurythmics,
Peter & Gordon,
Malaria!,
Isaac Hayes,
The Standells,
DNA,
Dual Sessions,
Gang of Four,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Patti Smith,
Slave,
Sex Pistols,
David Bowie,
Von Mondo,
The Barracudas,
Sandy B,
Dead Boys,
Ice-T,
Visage,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Index,
Bob Dylan,
The Red Krayola,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Whodini,
Aswad,
Agitation Free,
Drive Like Jehu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suburban Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Severed Heads,
Sällskapet,
Amazonics,
Trumans Water,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roy Ayers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Fall,
The Kinks,
AZ,
ABBA,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Blancmange,
Mission of Burma,
Todd Terry,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.