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 Qatar and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ash Ra Tempel to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scientists,
Rapeman,
Crime,
Pantaleimon,
Alphaville,
Cybotron,
The Seeds,
Crash Course in Science,
D'Angelo,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blancmange,
Barry Ungar,
Barbara Tucker,
Joyce Sims,
Accadde A,
James White and The Blacks,
Hot Snakes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Q and Not U,
Mission of Burma,
The Sound,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Make Up,
B.T. Express,
Fluxion,
Minor Threat,
The Buckinghams,
Quadrant,
Soft Machine,
Archie Shepp,
Deadbeat,
The Techniques,
Pylon,
The Misunderstood,
Babytalk,
Neil Young,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Byrd,
EPMD,
Derrick May,
Funky Four + One,
Buzzcocks,
The Blues Magoos,
Gabor Szabo,
Idris Muhammad,
Nik Kershaw,
Shuggie Otis,
Nick Fraelich,
Tres Demented,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cabaret Voltaire,
Albert Ayler,
The Real Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Von Mondo,
The Golliwogs,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Moody Blues,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.