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 Papua New Guinea and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 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 Traffic Nightmare to the funk 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Finger,
Goldenarms,
Deepchord,
Bob Dylan,
Fad Gadget,
Simply Red,
Nik Kershaw,
Pussy Galore,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chris Corsano,
Vainqueur,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fugazi,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang of Four,
The Stooges,
Jacques Brel,
The Residents,
Trumans Water,
Susan Cadogan,
Pierre Henry,
Ronan,
Hot Snakes,
Cluster,
DJ Sneak,
Aswad,
The Dave Clark Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Smog,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sarah Menescal,
Erasure,
Neil Young,
Rosa Yemen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Brothers Johnson,
In Retrospect,
Liliput,
Arthur Verocai,
Deakin,
John Lydon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pantaleimon,
KRS-One,
Alison Limerick,
Moby Grape,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
Jesper Dahlback,
Can,
Bush Tetras,
Icehouse,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cheater Slicks,
Agent Orange,
John Foxx,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Schoolly D,
Colin Newman,
The Knickerbockers,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.