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 Guinea-Bissau and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Nirvana to the grime 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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
OOIOO,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
Silicon Teens,
E-Dancer,
Mr. Review,
Flash Fearless,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Anakelly,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wire,
Shoche,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June Days,
Bob Dylan,
Yellowson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Massinfluence,
John Foxx,
Neil Young,
The Offenders,
These Immortal Souls,
Drive Like Jehu,
Max Romeo,
Rod Modell,
the Fania All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
X-Ray Spex,
Deakin,
Von Mondo,
The Martian,
The Doors,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eli Mardock,
Excepter,
Tim Buckley,
Terry Callier,
Parry Music,
Kerrie Biddell,
Spandau Ballet,
Theoretical Girls,
Moss Icon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vladislav Delay,
Pantytec,
The Angels of Light,
Sun Ra,
The Blackbyrds,
Procol Harum,
Nik Kershaw,
Outsiders,
Sister Nancy,
John Lydon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.