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 Peru and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Dead C,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Flipper,
Pantaleimon,
Thompson Twins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lakeside,
Reuben Wilson,
Sun Ra,
Bootsy Collins,
Rites of Spring,
Alice Coltrane,
Sex Pistols,
Black Flag,
Franke,
Camouflage,
Skarface,
the Bar-Kays,
Guru Guru,
Althea and Donna,
Marine Girls,
Suicide,
June of 44,
Rod Modell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bad Manners,
The Fortunes,
John Holt,
Carl Craig,
Slave,
F. McDonald,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Steve Hackett,
KRS-One,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Subhumans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joyce Sims,
Ultra Naté,
Erykah Badu,
Graham Central Station,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Patti Smith,
Rapeman,
Deadbeat,
The Blackbyrds,
Boz Scaggs,
PIL,
Amazonics,
Chrome,
Suburban Knight,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Smoke,
Marcia Griffiths,
Gang of Four,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.