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 Russia and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Mexico City.
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 linndrum 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 The Selecter to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Sparks,
Pole,
Blancmange,
Ken Boothe,
Depeche Mode,
Oblivians,
The Dave Clark Five,
Niagra,
Ponytail,
Kerri Chandler,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Nico,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Severed Heads,
Ralphi Rosario,
Whodini,
Boredoms,
Public Image Ltd.,
Stiv Bators,
Bluetip,
Morten Harket,
Gichy Dan,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Adolescents,
James White and The Blacks,
The Index,
Dark Day,
Marcia Griffiths,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Litter,
Audionom,
The Count Five,
Skarface,
Wings,
Nik Kershaw,
The Gories,
Tom Boy,
Television,
Deepchord,
F. McDonald,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Dead C,
The Grass Roots,
Glambeats Corp.,
R.M.O.,
Man Parrish,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bill Wells,
June of 44,
Sister Nancy,
Ronan,
Joensuu 1685,
Blossom Toes,
Howard Jones,
Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters, Crispian St. Peters.
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.