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 Nauru and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 Blossom Toes to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Marine Girls,
Nils Olav,
The Sonics,
The Fugs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fatback Band,
Mr. Review,
The Wake,
The Golliwogs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gang Starr,
Lou Reed,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ossler,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Sheep,
Schoolly D,
MDC,
Tom Boy,
Make Up,
FM Einheit,
Soft Machine,
John Lydon,
Barrington Levy,
The Seeds,
Jeff Lynne,
Amon Düül II,
Khruangbin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacques Brel,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Gun Club,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Los Fastidios,
Glenn Branca,
Prince Buster,
Crash Course in Science,
Quantec,
Zero Boys,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Dead Boys,
The Fall,
Funky Four + One,
Drexciya,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Aloha Tigers,
Ronan,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Hill,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wally Richardson,
JFA,
Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus, Bauhaus.
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.