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 Iran and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Saints to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Iggy Pop 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thompson Twins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tommy Roe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Swans,
Urselle,
Black Pus,
The Names,
Swell Maps,
The Motions,
Los Fastidios,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
Bad Manners,
R.M.O.,
New Age Steppers,
Outsiders,
The Barracudas,
Siglo XX,
Crispy Ambulance,
Erykah Badu,
The Neon Judgement,
Leonard Cohen,
Henry Cow,
Crash Course in Science,
Idris Muhammad,
Fugazi,
Judy Mowatt,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Sparks,
Cameo,
Bauhaus,
Derrick Morgan,
Junior Murvin,
David McCallum,
Bobby Womack,
Quantec,
Banda Bassotti,
Crooked Eye,
The Kinks,
Public Enemy,
Gang Green,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Happenings,
Delta 5,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nick Fraelich,
Ice-T,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
The Cowsills,
Ohio Players,
Minny Pops,
Big Daddy Kane,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
Interpol,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Bananas,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.