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 India and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 synthesizer 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 Bush Tetras to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
Suicide,
Terrestrial Tones,
Livin' Joy,
Rhythm & Sound,
Clear Light,
Bluetip,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Red Krayola,
Warren Ellis,
Stiv Bators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Yaz,
Qualms,
Pagans,
Lou Christie,
the Slits,
The Music Machine,
Quando Quango,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
Ponytail,
Pantaleimon,
The Raincoats,
Ossler,
Nik Kershaw,
a-ha,
Isaac Hayes,
Dead Boys,
Donny Hathaway,
Suburban Knight,
Malaria!,
Pantytec,
Rites of Spring,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
Kevin Saunderson,
Procol Harum,
Bush Tetras,
The Cramps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Normal,
The Smiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Michelle Simonal,
Chrome,
Reagan Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Rakim,
Rosa Yemen,
The Angels of Light,
Leonard Cohen,
Spoonie Gee,
Patti Smith,
James White and The Blacks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Delon & Dalcan,
Supertramp,
Newcleus,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.