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 Georgia and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eurythmics to the crunk 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 Average White Band. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Franke,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fat Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Tropical Tobacco,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bauhaus,
The Last Poets,
Adolescents,
Slave,
Neil Young,
Brick,
The Busters,
The Litter,
the Germs,
Deepchord,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gang of Four,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Minutemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Monks,
The Searchers,
Procol Harum,
Oneida,
The Skatalites,
Glenn Branca,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
The Residents,
Dave Gahan,
Public Enemy,
Organ,
Supertramp,
Fad Gadget,
The Smiths,
cv313,
Zero Boys,
The Grass Roots,
Heaven 17,
H. Thieme,
Eden Ahbez,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nas,
Todd Rundgren,
The Black Dice,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
The Music Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Rekid,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Ludus,
The Cowsills,
Joey Negro,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.