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 Barbados and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 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 The Real Kids to the dance 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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Buckinghams record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Knickerbockers,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scrapy,
Pussy Galore,
John Cale,
The Raincoats,
the Slits,
Neu!,
Kerrie Biddell,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Carl Craig,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
David Bowie,
Cal Tjader,
The Music Machine,
June of 44,
Eddi Front,
Colin Newman,
John Coltrane,
Yellowson,
Crash Course in Science,
Byron Stingily,
Throbbing Gristle,
Yusef Lateef,
Marine Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Masters at Work,
Symarip,
Quadrant,
David McCallum,
Vainqueur,
Robert Wyatt,
Chris & Cosey,
Brick,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Duran Duran,
The Motions,
Girls At Our Best!,
Blancmange,
Lightning Bolt,
10cc,
Todd Rundgren,
The Selecter,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry's Kids,
The Electric Prunes,
Swell Maps,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sight & Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.