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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Philadelphia.
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 guitar 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 Public Enemy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
the Sonics,
June Days,
Fugazi,
Nico,
A Certain Ratio,
Letta Mbulu,
the Bar-Kays,
Oneida,
Interpol,
Pylon,
CMW,
Connie Case,
Bootsy Collins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Saints,
Franke,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Almond,
Gang Green,
Lindisfarne,
The Black Dice,
Ken Boothe,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sugar Minott,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Görl,
Aural Exciters,
The Music Machine,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science,
Bizarre Inc.,
Toni Rubio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brass Construction,
Los Fastidios,
Girls At Our Best!,
Scrapy,
New York Dolls,
Eli Mardock,
T.S.O.L.,
Isaac Hayes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
LL Cool J,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Magma,
The Dead C,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
PIL,
Godley & Creme,
Drexciya,
Marshall Jefferson,
Second Layer,
R.M.O.,
Cluster,
Joey Negro,
The Blues Magoos,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.