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 Laos and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Winnipeg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 Bush Tetras to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Moss Icon,
Lucky Dragons,
Theoretical Girls,
Colin Newman,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
Albert Ayler,
Y Pants,
Section 25,
Prince Buster,
Niagra,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Flag,
John Lydon,
Dual Sessions,
Lower 48,
the Soft Cell,
Ronan,
Faraquet,
Outsiders,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Public Enemy,
Supertramp,
The Toasters,
Intrusion,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Barbara Tucker,
Camberwell Now,
Blake Baxter,
Icehouse,
Bobby Byrd,
DNA,
The Trojans,
Jimmy McGriff,
June Days,
Dead Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
T. Rex,
Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Kas Product,
Peter and Kerry,
Radiohead,
The Skatalites,
Shoche,
The Doors,
The Beau Brummels,
the Slits,
The Mojo Men,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Television Personalities,
Harpers Bizarre,
Liliput,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz, Metal Thangz.
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.