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 United States and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin 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 The Raincoats to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Lakeside tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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?
The Doors,
Blake Baxter,
Joyce Sims,
The Walker Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cure,
The Fortunes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
La Düsseldorf,
Throbbing Gristle,
China Crisis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terrestrial Tones,
Main Source,
Barry Ungar,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Standells,
The Victims,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Black Pus,
The Pretty Things,
Gang Starr,
Icehouse,
EPMD,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Grey Daturas,
Q and Not U,
The Real Kids,
Inner City,
Joey Negro,
Wasted Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Slave,
Nas,
Sarah Menescal,
The Pop Group,
Robert Wyatt,
Grauzone,
The Birthday Party,
Fat Boys,
Jerry's Kids,
Television Personalities,
The Monks,
Rotary Connection,
Reuben Wilson,
Fugazi,
Monks,
Young Marble Giants,
Y Pants,
The Move,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Little Man,
Pagans,
T.S.O.L.,
Spandau Ballet,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Flipper,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.