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 Singapore and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Birthday Party to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Faust,
Y Pants,
DJ Sneak,
The Offenders,
The Star Department,
Robert Hood,
Gregory Isaacs,
Animal Collective,
Roxy Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Neil Young,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ituana,
X-101,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fortunes,
Gang of Four,
Minutemen,
The Invisible,
Cal Tjader,
The Red Krayola,
LL Cool J,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Deepchord,
Ronan,
Bobby Womack,
The Residents,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Amon Düül II,
Peter and Kerry,
T. Rex,
Rapeman,
Make Up,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacob Miller,
The Victims,
Scrapy,
Pantytec,
cv313,
Qualms,
Matthew Bourne,
Tomorrow,
Inner City,
Index,
Suicide,
In Retrospect,
Banda Bassotti,
Eddi Front,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
F. McDonald,
Fugazi,
The Knickerbockers,
Heaven 17,
Derrick May,
The Shadows of Knight,
Erasure,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.