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 Mauritius and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 theremin 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 John Lydon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
FM Einheit,
Lalo Schifrin,
Popol Vuh,
Eric Copeland,
Godley & Creme,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Flipper,
Mo-Dettes,
Alice Coltrane,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
The Count Five,
Lyres,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
B.T. Express,
Little Man,
The Busters,
Spoonie Gee,
Faust,
Black Flag,
Quando Quango,
John Cale,
Alton Ellis,
Ken Boothe,
Pere Ubu,
Derrick May,
Au Pairs,
Young Marble Giants,
The Misunderstood,
The Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lungfish,
Matthew Bourne,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Motions,
R.M.O.,
Dawn Penn,
Gong,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Hoover,
Steve Hackett,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerri Chandler,
Guru Guru,
Barbara Tucker,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Can,
Subhumans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unrelated Segments,
Newcleus,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.