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 Seychelles and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fear to the rap 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar 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 harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faust,
The Beau Brummels,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultra Naté,
Fluxion,
The Smiths,
Interpol,
The Happenings,
Spandau Ballet,
June of 44,
Technova,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Litter,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Echospace,
Deepchord,
Radiohead,
The Motions,
Dead Boys,
MC5,
PIL,
Lower 48,
Television,
the Swans,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Dolphy,
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
Chris & Cosey,
Skarface,
Todd Terry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rakim,
Ronnie Foster,
Crash Course in Science,
New Order,
Black Flag,
Jacob Miller,
Shoche,
Lightning Bolt,
Matthew Halsall,
Sam Rivers,
Joensuu 1685,
Man Eating Sloth,
Warsaw,
The Skatalites,
Neil Young,
Supertramp,
The Misunderstood,
Little Man,
Parry Music,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Sneak,
Ituana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.