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 Zimbabwe and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Eve St. Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Jacob Miller,
Average White Band,
Nas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Japan,
R.M.O.,
Rufus Thomas,
Television Personalities,
Gong,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Joe Smooth,
Desert Stars,
Malaria!,
Lakeside,
The Gories,
Soulsonic Force,
Marc Almond,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gang Green,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jacques Brel,
Minutemen,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mandrill,
Arcadia,
The Mummies,
Joensuu 1685,
The Motions,
Todd Terry,
Saccharine Trust,
The Searchers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Massinfluence,
Dennis Brown,
Arab on Radar,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bauhaus,
Moss Icon,
Marvin Gaye,
Susan Cadogan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Charles Mingus,
Ronan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alton Ellis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pharoah Sanders,
Jeff Lynne,
Danielle Patucci,
Outsiders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lalann,
Camberwell Now,
Matthew Halsall,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.