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 Dominican Republic and from Lille.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Little Man to the dance 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun Ra,
Dawn Penn,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pulsallama,
Jawbox,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultravox,
Smog,
The Doors,
Popol Vuh,
Warren Ellis,
Little Man,
Delon & Dalcan,
Maurizio,
Godley & Creme,
Kurtis Blow,
Symarip,
The Selecter,
The Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Minny Pops,
Grauzone,
Angry Samoans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Alphaville,
Ken Boothe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Shoche,
Bad Manners,
a-ha,
Bob Dylan,
Gabor Szabo,
Lower 48,
kango's stein massive,
Jacques Brel,
Curtis Mayfield,
Amon Düül II,
Morten Harket,
Peter & Gordon,
John Holt,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Whodini,
Erasure,
Sällskapet,
the Association,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Sneak,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
Lucky Dragons,
Mission of Burma,
Amazonics,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.