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 Georgia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Mumbai and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro 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 Harry Pussy to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grey Daturas,
The Young Rascals,
Alton Ellis,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Happenings,
Dark Day,
Radiohead,
Saccharine Trust,
T. Rex,
Hoover,
The Techniques,
The United States of America,
Spoonie Gee,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
The Wake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Swans,
Siglo XX,
Parry Music,
Johnny Clarke,
Organ,
Brothers Johnson,
Todd Terry,
Tomorrow,
Rod Modell,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeru the Damaja,
Quando Quango,
Lyres,
Sam Rivers,
Junior Murvin,
Tubeway Army,
Henry Cow,
Archie Shepp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Wells,
The Barracudas,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Janne Schatter,
The Black Dice,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bootsy Collins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Can,
The Neon Judgement,
Nico,
Connie Case,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marmalade,
The Move,
H. Thieme,
K-Klass,
Animal Collective,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Subhumans,
Average White Band,
DJ Style,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Essential Logic,
The Human League,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.