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 Comoros and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Underground Resistance,
the Slits,
John Holt,
Terry Callier,
Gong,
Throbbing Gristle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultravox,
The Litter,
One Last Wish,
The Grass Roots,
Sam Rivers,
Prince Buster,
Al Stewart,
Slick Rick,
Kerrie Biddell,
Quando Quango,
Donald Byrd,
Maleditus Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wire,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Music Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Skriet,
Black Pus,
The Mojo Men,
Kevin Saunderson,
Erykah Badu,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hoover,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Black Moon,
Henry Cow,
Fluxion,
U.S. Maple,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arthur Verocai,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slackers,
Marmalade,
EPMD,
Altered Images,
Sandy B,
Unwound,
DNA,
The Searchers,
Symarip,
X-102,
Negative Approach,
Malaria!,
Hashim,
Make Up,
the Soft Cell,
Ituana,
Los Fastidios,
AZ,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.