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 Belgium and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Young Marble Giants to the crunk 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Dave Clark Five,
John Holt,
Mission of Burma,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
The Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Interpol,
Bronski Beat,
Wally Richardson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Red Krayola,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
James White and The Blacks,
Subhumans,
Ituana,
The Tremeloes,
Ronnie Foster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Grass Roots,
KRS-One,
Pantaleimon,
Joensuu 1685,
Cecil Taylor,
Sister Nancy,
The Mojo Men,
Wire,
The Gun Club,
F. McDonald,
Zapp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Dead C,
Skaos,
The Raincoats,
The Zeros,
Pantytec,
The Real Kids,
DNA,
Godley & Creme,
The Selecter,
The Durutti Column,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Litter,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cameo,
The Saints,
This Heat,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Kinks,
Amon Düül II,
Unrelated Segments,
Excepter,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.