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 Sierra Leone and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 harpsichord 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 Fad Gadget to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Fall. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Angry Samoans,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Sun Ra,
Jimmy McGriff,
PIL,
Danielle Patucci,
Sun City Girls,
Crooked Eye,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Liliput,
The Fall,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Q and Not U,
New York Dolls,
EPMD,
Fluxion,
Hot Snakes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bad Manners,
Crispy Ambulance,
Robert Görl,
Franke,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Glenn Branca,
Mo-Dettes,
Dave Gahan,
Youth Brigade,
Jeff Mills,
Oneida,
Silicon Teens,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
Todd Terry,
JFA,
Dead Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Monks,
Lee Hazlewood,
The American Breed,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
Donald Byrd,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fatback Band,
Cybotron,
Don Cherry,
David Axelrod,
Cecil Taylor,
The Zeros,
Gong,
Camberwell Now,
Harpers Bizarre,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Seeds,
Terry Callier,
Guru Guru,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.