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 Micronesia and from Jakarta.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 H. Thieme to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Judy Mowatt,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kaleidoscope,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quadrant,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Wings,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pole,
The Golliwogs,
CMW,
Minnie Riperton,
Soul Sonic Force,
EPMD,
Gang Green,
Icehouse,
Chris Corsano,
Moebius,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
In Retrospect,
Sonny Sharrock,
Visage,
Shuggie Otis,
Los Fastidios,
The Raincoats,
Tears for Fears,
Hot Snakes,
The Smoke,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Brick,
Accadde A,
The Barracudas,
John Coltrane,
Stiv Bators,
ABC,
Don Cherry,
Anthony Braxton,
Nik Kershaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young,
Barbara Tucker,
June of 44,
The Neon Judgement,
Excepter,
Amon Düül II,
Roger Hodgson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hoover,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Make Up,
Minutemen,
Fluxion,
La Düsseldorf,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.