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 Morocco and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in 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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 rhodes 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 Prince Buster to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tommy Roe,
Slick Rick,
Piero Umiliani,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Henry Cow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Howard Jones,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Neon Judgement,
Interpol,
Sister Nancy,
David Axelrod,
The Real Kids,
KRS-One,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Normal,
Newcleus,
Fugazi,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Nik Kershaw,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monochrome Set,
Sonny Sharrock,
The J.B.'s,
The Smoke,
Can,
Jacques Brel,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erykah Badu,
Motorama,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Deepchord,
EPMD,
The Fire Engines,
Fatback Band,
ABC,
Vainqueur,
Mandrill,
Bobby Sherman,
Don Cherry,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spoonie Gee,
Alison Limerick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mad Mike,
Whodini,
The Misunderstood,
Man Eating Sloth,
La Düsseldorf,
Malaria!,
Black Flag,
The Dirtbombs,
The Happenings,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Residents,
Oblivians,
Inner City,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.