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 Zambia and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
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 chamberlin 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 Dennis Brown to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Absolute Body Control,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Remains,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Swans,
Eve St. Jones,
Davy DMX,
The Golliwogs,
Brand Nubian,
Index,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cowsills,
Heaven 17,
Television,
Basic Channel,
K-Klass,
Bang On A Can,
Camberwell Now,
LL Cool J,
Ronan,
Flipper,
Idris Muhammad,
Metal Thangz,
Ludus,
Depeche Mode,
Slave,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Residents,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bad Manners,
This Heat,
Nik Kershaw,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Trumans Water,
Kool Moe Dee,
Colin Newman,
Supertramp,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Gories,
Spandau Ballet,
Magma,
Siglo XX,
Nation of Ulysses,
Animal Collective,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Wake,
Cecil Taylor,
Pantytec,
Schoolly D,
Warren Ellis,
Jandek,
Cymande,
Arab on Radar,
Henry Cow,
Tres Demented,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.