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 Kenya and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Young Rascals to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Kenny Larkin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Angry Samoans,
Basic Channel,
Mandrill,
Supertramp,
Kayak,
Gong,
Ponytail,
Hardrive,
Hoover,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Main Source,
Gang Gang Dance,
Masters at Work,
Archie Shepp,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
Sugar Minott,
Piero Umiliani,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Motorama,
The Kinks,
Icehouse,
Nik Kershaw,
Suburban Knight,
Mantronix,
Flamin' Groovies,
ABC,
Stiv Bators,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Subhumans,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Excepter,
Sun City Girls,
Alice Coltrane,
The Index,
The Standells,
Bad Manners,
Slick Rick,
Absolute Body Control,
Sound Behaviour,
The Residents,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
Oneida,
Joyce Sims,
Goldenarms,
Funky Four + One,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily,
Graham Central Station,
Desert Stars,
DNA,
Metal Thangz,
Juan Atkins,
Dorothy Ashby,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.