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 Iran and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Walker Brothers to the rap 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tears for Fears,
Ronan,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Tommy Roe,
Judy Mowatt,
New York Dolls,
Skarface,
Radiohead,
Sarah Menescal,
Thee Headcoats,
The Wake,
The Trojans,
Black Moon,
Toni Rubio,
X-101,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Junior Murvin,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Goldenarms,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Almond,
Neil Young,
The Kinks,
Subhumans,
Robert Hood,
Slave,
Sonic Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Susan Cadogan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
The Stooges,
Joe Finger,
La Düsseldorf,
The Neon Judgement,
Barry Ungar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Sheep,
Laurel Aitken,
Patti Smith,
Faust,
Soul II Soul,
Bluetip,
Don Cherry,
the Human League,
Technova,
Television Personalities,
Derrick Morgan,
The Moody Blues,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bang On A Can,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
The Invisible,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.