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 Spain and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Glasgow.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 B.T. Express to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Johnny Clarke,
Faust,
Japan,
Maurizio,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Hoover,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Germs,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams,
Blake Baxter,
Bronski Beat,
Chris Corsano,
Eli Mardock,
Goldenarms,
Scrapy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Seeds,
John Lydon,
The Cramps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Fela Kuti,
Skarface,
The Neon Judgement,
The Toasters,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Starr,
The Cure,
The Wake,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Human League,
Sexual Harrassment,
Los Fastidios,
Bluetip,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
Donald Byrd,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
Yazoo,
Popol Vuh,
Ken Boothe,
Andrew Hill,
Glenn Branca,
Moby Grape,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
the Association,
ABBA,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Sister Nancy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mo-Dettes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Janne Schatter,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.