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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Beau Brummels to the grunge 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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Essential Logic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Vogues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Eddi Front,
Althea and Donna,
The Moleskins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ash Ra Tempel,
John Foxx,
Theoretical Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Con Funk Shun,
Brass Construction,
Heaven 17,
KRS-One,
The Doors,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
The Slits,
The New Christs,
Agent Orange,
UT,
The Index,
Nico,
MC5,
Sonny Sharrock,
Siglo XX,
Marc Almond,
The Beau Brummels,
The Stooges,
The Neon Judgement,
X-102,
Country Teasers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Names,
Oblivians,
Liliput,
The Selecter,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Hasil Adkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kayak,
EPMD,
Alice Coltrane,
Icehouse,
Delta 5,
Ultra Naté,
Symarip,
Kevin Saunderson,
Essential Logic,
The Real Kids,
K-Klass,
Max Romeo,
Alton Ellis,
Todd Rundgren,
Soft Machine,
Amazonics,
Interpol,
Crooked Eye,
Excepter,
Lebanon Hanover,
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.