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 Tonga and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 güiro 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grime 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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry's Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
Wasted Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
F. McDonald,
Sparks,
B.T. Express,
Bush Tetras,
Nik Kershaw,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Visage,
Minutemen,
Zapp,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Albert Ayler,
the Swans,
Scion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Young Marble Giants,
The Black Dice,
John Lydon,
Marmalade,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Man Eating Sloth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
the Germs,
Quadrant,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Offenders,
Boredoms,
Tropical Tobacco,
Theoretical Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Evens,
Pierre Henry,
Newcleus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Walker Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
The Neon Judgement,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Mills,
Marshall Jefferson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mars,
Rod Modell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Busters,
Wolf Eyes,
The Count Five,
The Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sister Nancy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mo-Dettes,
Soft Machine,
Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young, Neil Young.
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.