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 Oman 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Junior Murvin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 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 Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Sarah Menescal,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Silicon Teens,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fall,
Grey Daturas,
The Human League,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultravox,
MC5,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Flash Fearless,
Sonny Sharrock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Derrick Morgan,
Agitation Free,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sonic Youth,
Stetsasonic,
Prince Buster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cure,
Dave Gahan,
The Selecter,
Buzzcocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Eurythmics,
X-101,
Minny Pops,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ice-T,
Wasted Youth,
Soul II Soul,
The Slackers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Reuben Wilson,
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eden Ahbez,
Fela Kuti,
The Buckinghams,
The J.B.'s,
Barry Ungar,
Archie Shepp,
The Beau Brummels,
Sällskapet,
Minnie Riperton,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Kinks,
Arab on Radar,
Judy Mowatt,
KRS-One,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yaz,
Bush Tetras,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lee Hazlewood,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.