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 San Marino and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the 808 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 Buckinghams to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Excepter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Malaria!,
Pagans,
Gang Green,
John Lydon,
Ohio Players,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Eli Mardock,
ABBA,
the Association,
DJ Sneak,
Mantronix,
Accadde A,
The Monochrome Set,
Joy Division,
Los Fastidios,
Interpol,
Faust,
Glambeats Corp.,
Aaron Thompson,
Intrusion,
World's Most,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tim Buckley,
Duran Duran,
F. McDonald,
The Busters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Boredoms,
Albert Ayler,
The Human League,
Black Sheep,
Drexciya,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Deepchord,
The Remains,
DNA,
AZ,
The Durutti Column,
Derrick May,
The Gories,
The Young Rascals,
Jeff Lynne,
The Star Department,
The Black Dice,
Eric Dolphy,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Barracudas,
The Martian,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chrome,
Unwound,
Rosa Yemen,
T. Rex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Halsall,
Mad Mike,
Scientists,
Lightning Bolt,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.