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 Kuwait and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Walker Brothers to the rap 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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
the Swans,
Henry Cow,
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
Television Personalities,
Desert Stars,
The Count Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ludus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
These Immortal Souls,
Youth Brigade,
Tommy Roe,
Pagans,
The Stooges,
Carl Craig,
Soft Cell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doors,
The Litter,
Matthew Halsall,
Bill Wells,
The Gun Club,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Underground Resistance,
Man Parrish,
Ice-T,
the Association,
The Victims,
Jeff Mills,
Scion,
Joy Division,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Amazonics,
Vainqueur,
Joensuu 1685,
Howard Jones,
Minor Threat,
Black Moon,
Prince Buster,
Groovy Waters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Skaos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Zero Boys,
Gang Green,
the Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-Ray Spex,
Soul II Soul,
Franke,
Cybotron,
Barbara Tucker,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.