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 Tuvalu and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Godley & Creme to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Khruangbin,
Fluxion,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barry Ungar,
The Toasters,
Rekid,
Gastr Del Sol,
Boredoms,
Grey Daturas,
La Düsseldorf,
Duran Duran,
the Association,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tommy Roe,
Swans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Whodini,
Icehouse,
Donald Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Colin Newman,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marvin Gaye,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Niagra,
Sällskapet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Move,
Public Enemy,
Faraquet,
LL Cool J,
Joensuu 1685,
Thee Headcoats,
Sugar Minott,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Victims,
A Certain Ratio,
The Tremeloes,
Country Teasers,
Wolf Eyes,
Scion,
Rapeman,
Dual Sessions,
Lakeside,
Davy DMX,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Clarke,
Masters at Work,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Prince Buster,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joey Negro,
cv313,
Livin' Joy,
Circle Jerks,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.