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 Liberia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and New York.
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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Kerri Chandler to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths 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 grunge 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 a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
X-Ray Spex,
Ten City,
The Pretty Things,
Lightning Bolt,
The Vogues,
Zapp,
Theoretical Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Piero Umiliani,
Nick Fraelich,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tears for Fears,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Groovy Waters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Procol Harum,
The Standells,
New York Dolls,
R.M.O.,
Country Teasers,
Barry Ungar,
World's Most,
Thompson Twins,
The Grass Roots,
Magma,
Toni Rubio,
Intrusion,
Peter & Gordon,
the Sonics,
Bizarre Inc.,
Brick,
Todd Rundgren,
Yaz,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fluxion,
New Age Steppers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rapeman,
The Dirtbombs,
The Fire Engines,
Severed Heads,
Hasil Adkins,
Crime,
The Victims,
Tomorrow,
Girls At Our Best!,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül,
Main Source,
Sixth Finger,
Bobby Sherman,
Vainqueur,
Moby Grape,
Ossler,
Audionom,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.