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 Estonia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Archie Shepp to the electroclash 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Negative Approach,
Scan 7,
Eddi Front,
Adolescents,
Drexciya,
The American Breed,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Unwound,
The Martian,
Fela Kuti,
the Slits,
Marine Girls,
Scratch Acid,
Tubeway Army,
Spandau Ballet,
LL Cool J,
Bronski Beat,
Rakim,
Robert Hood,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Blake Baxter,
The Sound,
Roxy Music,
the Bar-Kays,
FM Einheit,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amazonics,
Section 25,
Neu!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Funkadelic,
Dawn Penn,
B.T. Express,
Michelle Simonal,
Vladislav Delay,
Trumans Water,
Angry Samoans,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers,
Grauzone,
The New Christs,
The Saints,
The Barracudas,
Moby Grape,
The Durutti Column,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joyce Sims,
Faraquet,
the Germs,
Chrome,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sonics,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Newcleus,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.