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 France and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Nik Kershaw to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
The Trojans,
Monks,
X-Ray Spex,
R.M.O.,
The Kinks,
The Selecter,
Boredoms,
The Pretty Things,
The Residents,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The J.B.'s,
Flash Fearless,
Johnny Clarke,
T.S.O.L.,
Alton Ellis,
Man Parrish,
Deadbeat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Human League,
Hardrive,
Oneida,
Fugazi,
Ralphi Rosario,
Thee Headcoats,
Absolute Body Control,
Joey Negro,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joy Division,
China Crisis,
Radiopuhelimet,
Goldenarms,
The Mummies,
Joe Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
Crooked Eye,
The Young Rascals,
The Leaves,
The Index,
The Happenings,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Dave Clark Five,
Public Enemy,
Amon Düül,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
The Invisible,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Searchers,
Blake Baxter,
Joe Smooth,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
The Five Americans,
X-102,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stereo Dub,
The Smoke,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.