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 Mauritania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Stockholm.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Buzzcocks to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Bill Wells,
Banda Bassotti,
Michelle Simonal,
Wasted Youth,
Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Grey Daturas,
The Victims,
The Seeds,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sparks,
The Mojo Men,
Blancmange,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fugazi,
Monks,
The Last Poets,
Don Cherry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ralphi Rosario,
R.M.O.,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
OOIOO,
Aswad,
Camouflage,
Chris Corsano,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
Moss Icon,
Dark Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Smog,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Slackers,
The Count Five,
Skriet,
Quadrant,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Inner City,
The Birthday Party,
Blake Baxter,
Sight & Sound,
Rapeman,
Thompson Twins,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gories,
Spoonie Gee,
a-ha,
Mandrill,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Youth Brigade,
Clear Light,
Ituana,
Tomorrow,
Lou Christie,
K-Klass,
Babytalk,
Graham Central Station,
Kaleidoscope,
cv313,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.