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 Malta and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 The Happenings to the dance 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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quantec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
Das Ding,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Blossom Toes,
Inner City,
Scion,
Bootsy Collins,
E-Dancer,
The Sonics,
Colin Newman,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Goldenarms,
Erasure,
Cymande,
Soul II Soul,
Amon Düül,
Scrapy,
Scott Walker,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
The Young Rascals,
China Crisis,
Godley & Creme,
Spoonie Gee,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Reed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
The Mojo Men,
DNA,
Lou Christie,
Mary Jane Girls,
UT,
Eden Ahbez,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glambeats Corp.,
Minny Pops,
Chrome,
10cc,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Newcleus,
The Real Kids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Electric Light Orchestra,
OOIOO,
David Axelrod,
Buzzcocks,
U.S. Maple,
Rites of Spring,
The Blues Magoos,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Moody Blues,
One Last Wish,
Hot Snakes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mr. Review,
Second Layer,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.