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 Barbados and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Slave to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gladiators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Oblivians,
Dave Gahan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Malaria!,
Delta 5,
Charles Mingus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Motions,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Big Daddy Kane,
Buzzcocks,
Infiniti,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gabor Szabo,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Wake,
The Raincoats,
Zapp,
The Durutti Column,
Mo-Dettes,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Velvet Underground,
Metal Thangz,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sexual Harrassment,
Von Mondo,
Vainqueur,
The Kinks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Monks,
Mad Mike,
The Cramps,
Rotary Connection,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bill Wells,
Anakelly,
The Moleskins,
Steve Hackett,
Ronan,
Bobby Byrd,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Birthday Party,
Easy Going,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Cowsills,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Dawn Penn,
Negative Approach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Danielle Patucci,
Wolf Eyes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nas,
The Vogues,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ossler,
ABBA,
Heaven 17,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.