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 Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ 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 Flesh Eaters to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gories. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-102 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dave Gahan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
John Holt,
Morten Harket,
Rosa Yemen,
The Misunderstood,
The Busters,
Tomorrow,
Eden Ahbez,
Lindisfarne,
Interpol,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Stooges,
Bauhaus,
Peter & Gordon,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Radio Birdman,
Dead Boys,
Nas,
Byron Stingily,
Negative Approach,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quadrant,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Livin' Joy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Japan,
Sister Nancy,
Scion,
kango's stein massive,
Guru Guru,
Buzzcocks,
F. McDonald,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Nation of Ulysses,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Deadbeat,
Max Romeo,
Index,
The Slits,
This Heat,
Cluster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Silicon Teens,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Susan Cadogan,
FM Einheit,
K-Klass,
Suburban Knight,
Mandrill,
The Golliwogs,
Mad Mike,
Jawbox,
The American Breed,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.