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 Guinea-Bissau and from Bremen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 The Cramps to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
The Star Department,
Panda Bear,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Black Pus,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David McCallum,
The Dirtbombs,
Deadbeat,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minny Pops,
Delta 5,
La Düsseldorf,
Hardrive,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Agent Orange,
Eddi Front,
Desert Stars,
Inner City,
The Tremeloes,
Monks,
Kool Moe Dee,
B.T. Express,
Bronski Beat,
The Slackers,
Tres Demented,
Jeru the Damaja,
Graham Central Station,
The Raincoats,
Gang of Four,
DJ Style,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pantaleimon,
Roxy Music,
Scientists,
Radiohead,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cowsills,
Michelle Simonal,
Alison Limerick,
The Residents,
Jesper Dahlback,
Danielle Patucci,
The Victims,
Joyce Sims,
Judy Mowatt,
Jerry's Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
Guru Guru,
Porter Ricks,
James White and The Blacks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Hood,
X-101,
The Birthday Party,
Wire,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.