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 Ghana and from New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Fugs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Skaos 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Bizarre Inc.,
Junior Murvin,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pere Ubu,
Crooked Eye,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fuzztones,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wings,
Marmalade,
Mary Jane Girls,
Joe Finger,
The Zeros,
Peter and Kerry,
Agent Orange,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kayak,
Scott Walker,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crispian St. Peters,
Duran Duran,
Kas Product,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
The New Christs,
Pantaleimon,
The United States of America,
Bill Near,
The Cowsills,
Fat Boys,
Eli Mardock,
The Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Sällskapet,
Cheater Slicks,
Model 500,
Ohio Players,
Warren Ellis,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rapeman,
Ultra Naté,
the Association,
The Smoke,
Barbara Tucker,
Albert Ayler,
The Fire Engines,
Sound Behaviour,
The Gun Club,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Negative Approach,
The Invisible,
Youth Brigade,
The Gladiators,
Altered Images,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Leonard Cohen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.