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 Bulgaria and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Clear Light to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cameo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
LL Cool J,
Marine Girls,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
Wasted Youth,
Jeff Mills,
Althea and Donna,
Das Ding,
Scientists,
Severed Heads,
Skaos,
The Gun Club,
Bobby Sherman,
The Mummies,
Schoolly D,
The Skatalites,
Anthony Braxton,
Drexciya,
The Buckinghams,
The Star Department,
U.S. Maple,
Sound Behaviour,
The J.B.'s,
The Cosmic Jokers,
James White and The Blacks,
Mo-Dettes,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare,
Davy DMX,
Gichy Dan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
The Trojans,
Steve Hackett,
Kurtis Blow,
Carl Craig,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Golliwogs,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeff Lynne,
Half Japanese,
Pere Ubu,
Danielle Patucci,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cameo,
Vainqueur,
Terry Callier,
Gang Starr,
Jandek,
Porter Ricks,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Goldenarms,
A Certain Ratio,
Dawn Penn,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Evens,
Prince Buster,
Faust,
Aaron Thompson,
Boz Scaggs,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.