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 Vietnam and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the theremin 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 Lower 48 to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Louis and Bebe Barron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Royal Trux,
Charles Mingus,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pere Ubu,
Colin Newman,
KRS-One,
Warren Ellis,
Slick Rick,
Angry Samoans,
Deakin,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Moebius,
Mission of Burma,
The Real Kids,
The Gladiators,
Don Cherry,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The American Breed,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Sherman,
EPMD,
The Kinks,
The Gun Club,
Nirvana,
Lalo Schifrin,
Neu!,
Malaria!,
Thompson Twins,
Jeff Lynne,
MDC,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacques Brel,
The Smoke,
Visage,
Godley & Creme,
Schoolly D,
The Moody Blues,
CMW,
Lucky Dragons,
James White and The Blacks,
The Blues Magoos,
Boredoms,
PIL,
DNA,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
The Names,
Arab on Radar,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jawbox,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.