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 Burkina and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin 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 Von Mondo to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Litter. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Stooges,
Das Ding,
Guru Guru,
Robert Görl,
June Days,
Monolake,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blake Baxter,
B.T. Express,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
John Holt,
Brass Construction,
A Certain Ratio,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare,
kango's stein massive,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pagans,
Henry Cow,
Fluxion,
Dorothy Ashby,
Barbara Tucker,
Matthew Halsall,
Alphaville,
Yellowson,
CMW,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Selecter,
Skriet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Byron Stingily,
Bill Near,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Quantec,
Letta Mbulu,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jandek,
Television Personalities,
The Slits,
Terry Callier,
F. McDonald,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Surgeon,
Mark Hollis,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Minny Pops,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ice-T,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Smoke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Whodini,
Skaos,
Mantronix,
Popol Vuh,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Alice Coltrane,
The Kinks,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.