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 Syria and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grime 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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Supertramp,
Amazonics,
Barry Ungar,
The Human League,
Animal Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sam Rivers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerri Chandler,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skaos,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aural Exciters,
The Techniques,
Jerry's Kids,
Lower 48,
The Music Machine,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Junior Murvin,
Pulsallama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Angels of Light,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
UT,
The Fall,
Mark Hollis,
Eric B and Rakim,
Aaron Thompson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
T.S.O.L.,
the Normal,
Sex Pistols,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sugar Minott,
Rotary Connection,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Dirtbombs,
Joe Smooth,
Blake Baxter,
David Axelrod,
Siglo XX,
Monolake,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sonic Youth,
Monks,
Desert Stars,
The Fuzztones,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Searchers,
Jawbox,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pere Ubu,
Hardrive,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.