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 Bhutan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Crispy Ambulance to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Bob Dylan,
In Retrospect,
Slick Rick,
Audionom,
The Names,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Dirtbombs,
Rites of Spring,
Livin' Joy,
Newcleus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Niagra,
Bill Wells,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scratch Acid,
Technova,
Theoretical Girls,
the Soft Cell,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
48th St. Collective,
The Cowsills,
LL Cool J,
Bad Manners,
Colin Newman,
Harmonia,
Pole,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Second Layer,
Yellowson,
Deakin,
Jandek,
Radio Birdman,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blossom Toes,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
Marmalade,
Funky Four + One,
The Martian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
a-ha,
Sandy B,
Aural Exciters,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside,
The American Breed,
Joe Finger,
Wings,
DNA,
The Monks,
B.T. Express,
Vainqueur,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.