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 Cameroon and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Public Image Ltd.,
Godley & Creme,
R.M.O.,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Y Pants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Walker Brothers,
Sparks,
Guru Guru,
Skarface,
Lou Christie,
The Mojo Men,
Agitation Free,
The Smiths,
Erasure,
Average White Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Move,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sällskapet,
Inner City,
Banda Bassotti,
Popol Vuh,
Dead Boys,
Scientists,
DJ Style,
Avey Tare,
Audionom,
Anthony Braxton,
Second Layer,
Moss Icon,
Sandy B,
Bush Tetras,
The Happenings,
Minny Pops,
Marvin Gaye,
Rod Modell,
Organ,
The Golliwogs,
Subhumans,
8 Eyed Spy,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
Robert Görl,
Public Enemy,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Circle Jerks,
Outsiders,
Jandek,
Parry Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Roxette,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alton Ellis,
Index,
Yaz,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.