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 Congo and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Vogues to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Misunderstood,
Mark Hollis,
Slick Rick,
The Modern Lovers,
The Mummies,
Junior Murvin,
Skarface,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Bronski Beat,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Cell,
The Velvet Underground,
Q and Not U,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Byron Stingily,
Gang of Four,
Sex Pistols,
Average White Band,
X-101,
The Leaves,
Main Source,
Lindisfarne,
Pharoah Sanders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Radiohead,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Interpol,
Swans,
the Bar-Kays,
Dave Gahan,
Colin Newman,
Television,
Cameo,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Quando Quango,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
These Immortal Souls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Talk Talk,
Pet Shop Boys,
Chris Corsano,
Harry Pussy,
Infiniti,
Michelle Simonal,
Unrelated Segments,
Groovy Waters,
Inner City,
Monks,
Babytalk,
The Slits,
Grauzone,
Bob Dylan,
Pantaleimon,
MC5,
Japan,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
Mr. Review,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultravox,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.