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 India and from Calgary.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers,
Chris & Cosey,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mo-Dettes,
Talk Talk,
The Searchers,
Pagans,
Minor Threat,
Pole,
Deepchord,
The Dead C,
Howard Jones,
Circle Jerks,
The Names,
Skarface,
Pylon,
Shoche,
Max Romeo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chrome,
Boredoms,
Davy DMX,
Shuggie Otis,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Birthday Party,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Moleskins,
Basic Channel,
Outsiders,
Rekid,
Guru Guru,
The Sound,
The Beau Brummels,
Royal Trux,
Soul II Soul,
Funkadelic,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camberwell Now,
The United States of America,
Toni Rubio,
Sister Nancy,
Fugazi,
The Golliwogs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bill Wells,
PIL,
Yazoo,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The American Breed,
The Motions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ralphi Rosario,
Erasure,
Brothers Johnson,
Sugar Minott,
One Last Wish,
The Grass Roots,
Warsaw,
Mission of Burma,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.