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 Mauritius and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Porter Ricks,
L. Decosne,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bobby Sherman,
UT,
Black Sheep,
Juan Atkins,
Matthew Halsall,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang of Four,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Zeros,
T. Rex,
Bronski Beat,
Rakim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sarah Menescal,
Supertramp,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gladiators,
Soul II Soul,
Arthur Verocai,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
Soulsonic Force,
Ken Boothe,
The Invisible,
Mr. Review,
Cybotron,
the Slits,
Junior Murvin,
The Dave Clark Five,
Outsiders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Parry Music,
Pantytec,
Jeff Mills,
Newcleus,
Rufus Thomas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sex Pistols,
Brass Construction,
Theoretical Girls,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flash Fearless,
Main Source,
Essential Logic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Yellowson,
The Selecter,
The Slits,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soft Machine,
Mark Hollis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Whodini,
Eli Mardock,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.