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 Thailand and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 Desert Stars to the grunge 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Man Parrish,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Kayak,
Matthew Bourne,
Wasted Youth,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Holt,
Outsiders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Pulsallama,
The Wake,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
Sarah Menescal,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Index,
Black Pus,
Alison Limerick,
The Move,
Amazonics,
Donny Hathaway,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Shuggie Otis,
Albert Ayler,
Drexciya,
Darondo,
Fat Boys,
Max Romeo,
Parry Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bobby Byrd,
Bobby Sherman,
Cybotron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bill Near,
Black Sheep,
John Cale,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
The Zeros,
PIL,
The Beau Brummels,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stereo Dub,
Silicon Teens,
Y Pants,
Negative Approach,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Metal Thangz,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Avey Tare,
Reuben Wilson,
Fear,
Tim Buckley,
Stockholm Monsters,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.