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 Paraguay and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb 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 Sisters of Mercy to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Style,
Spandau Ballet,
Saccharine Trust,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Laurel Aitken,
The Residents,
Royal Trux,
Harry Pussy,
Pharoah Sanders,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Associates,
the Germs,
The Gladiators,
Kas Product,
Stetsasonic,
Grey Daturas,
The Fortunes,
New Order,
Drive Like Jehu,
Circle Jerks,
Monks,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fat Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Yaz,
Terrestrial Tones,
Niagra,
Roxette,
Bob Dylan,
La Düsseldorf,
Dual Sessions,
These Immortal Souls,
Junior Murvin,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Joy Division,
Monolake,
Smog,
Lou Reed,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
R.M.O.,
Unrelated Segments,
Ronnie Foster,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Idris Muhammad,
The Raincoats,
Cybotron,
Eric Dolphy,
Magma,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Barracudas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.