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 Italy and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
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 Wings to the crunk 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 The Mummies. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
La Düsseldorf,
The Buckinghams,
The Misunderstood,
One Last Wish,
Accadde A,
Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Jeff Lynne,
Interpol,
The Blackbyrds,
Letta Mbulu,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Faraquet,
Bronski Beat,
Desert Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alphaville,
Marmalade,
Mo-Dettes,
Drexciya,
Main Source,
JFA,
Clear Light,
Malaria!,
Nico,
Deadbeat,
Ken Boothe,
The Names,
Second Layer,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Count Five,
Fugazi,
Arab on Radar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The American Breed,
The Young Rascals,
Sparks,
Circle Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
Skarface,
Blancmange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swans,
Guru Guru,
Royal Trux,
LL Cool J,
Bobby Hutcherson,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Negative Approach,
Andrew Hill,
Groovy Waters,
Don Cherry,
The Skatalites,
Babytalk,
B.T. Express,
Lucky Dragons,
The Slits,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.