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 Uruguay and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Suicide to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Patti Smith,
Faraquet,
Eric Copeland,
Goldenarms,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Skatalites,
The Blackbyrds,
Stereo Dub,
Amon Düül II,
Sandy B,
Dead Boys,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kerrie Biddell,
Brick,
Peter and Kerry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Althea and Donna,
The Slackers,
The Names,
Jeff Mills,
Jawbox,
Amazonics,
Piero Umiliani,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
Spandau Ballet,
Scan 7,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Alton Ellis,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Flag,
The Mojo Men,
Outsiders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Arcadia,
DNA,
The Pretty Things,
H. Thieme,
The Monochrome Set,
Reagan Youth,
DJ Style,
Smog,
Henry Cow,
Index,
Jacob Miller,
The Selecter,
Bad Manners,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
JFA,
James White and The Blacks,
Chrome,
Boogie Down Productions,
Metal Thangz,
Bobby Womack,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.