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 Micronesia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 organ 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 Kerri Chandler to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Maurizio,
Althea and Donna,
Ten City,
The Dirtbombs,
The Victims,
Maleditus Sound,
Matthew Bourne,
Monks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Moon,
the Normal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Divine Comedy,
Archie Shepp,
Harry Pussy,
Scan 7,
Marvin Gaye,
DJ Style,
Ronan,
Jacques Brel,
Groovy Waters,
Altered Images,
Dark Day,
Max Romeo,
Infiniti,
The Black Dice,
Yusef Lateef,
Ronnie Foster,
Brick,
Wolf Eyes,
The Gun Club,
Interpol,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Star Department,
Severed Heads,
Warsaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Cameo,
Index,
Leonard Cohen,
X-101,
a-ha,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Robert Görl,
Quadrant,
Electric Prunes,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Circle Jerks,
The Sonics,
The Count Five,
Henry Cow,
Ice-T,
Colin Newman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gregory Isaacs,
Niagra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Q and Not U,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.