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 Cyprus and from Halifax.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Drive Like Jehu to the grunge 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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Quadrant,
The Searchers,
Eurythmics,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Black Bananas,
The Birthday Party,
X-101,
Charles Mingus,
Khruangbin,
Freddie Wadling,
Byron Stingily,
Judy Mowatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Eating Sloth,
Archie Shepp,
The Neon Judgement,
Barbara Tucker,
The Durutti Column,
Ponytail,
Agitation Free,
Lakeside,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ituana,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Black Dice,
Can,
Sun Ra,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amon Düül,
One Last Wish,
Letta Mbulu,
E-Dancer,
Subhumans,
The Standells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
The Sound,
Shoche,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kenny Larkin,
Delon & Dalcan,
Royal Trux,
Intrusion,
Skaos,
Whodini,
Jimmy McGriff,
Connie Case,
The Grass Roots,
Tim Buckley,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harry Pussy,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Doors,
Tres Demented,
Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17, Heaven 17.
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.