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 Senegal and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moleskins to the jazz 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Neil Young,
Mo-Dettes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Visage,
Ice-T,
Schoolly D,
Pulsallama,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
The Buckinghams,
Arab on Radar,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kenny Larkin,
Moby Grape,
PIL,
Zero Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Arcadia,
Easy Going,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Selecter,
Blake Baxter,
Young Marble Giants,
Franke,
John Foxx,
Pet Shop Boys,
Stereo Dub,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Todd Rundgren,
The Kinks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Neon Judgement,
Harry Pussy,
The Cure,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eve St. Jones,
Avey Tare,
Suicide,
the Bar-Kays,
Drexciya,
cv313,
A Certain Ratio,
The Red Krayola,
Carl Craig,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Black Dice,
Gabor Szabo,
Underground Resistance,
Davy DMX,
The Fall,
Frankie Knuckles,
Malaria!,
DJ Style,
Severed Heads,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Motorama,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.