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 Nicaragua and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Young Marble Giants to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare 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 mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barry Ungar,
The Move,
Derrick May,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lou Reed,
Ludus,
Sam Rivers,
Aural Exciters,
June of 44,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Real Kids,
Pole,
Donny Hathaway,
Babytalk,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bluetip,
The Seeds,
Mandrill,
Severed Heads,
Soft Machine,
Oblivians,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Red Krayola,
Matthew Bourne,
Agent Orange,
Dark Day,
Leonard Cohen,
Angry Samoans,
Zapp,
The Motions,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DJ Style,
Television,
The Happenings,
Groovy Waters,
Brand Nubian,
Frankie Knuckles,
Max Romeo,
the Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DNA,
Grauzone,
Pagans,
Nik Kershaw,
The Dead C,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Buckinghams,
John Lydon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Gil Scott Heron,
Unwound,
Fela Kuti,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Deadbeat,
Alphaville,
Echospace,
Patti Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Boogie Down Productions,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.