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 Denmark and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 MDC to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Absolute Body Control record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
Smog,
Suburban Knight,
Electric Prunes,
The Fuzztones,
Adolescents,
Faust,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Soft Cell,
Schoolly D,
Alphaville,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Reed,
The Cure,
The Raincoats,
The Fugs,
The American Breed,
A Certain Ratio,
Man Parrish,
The Black Dice,
Interpol,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Motions,
John Foxx,
Fear,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Funky Four + One,
Magazine,
Chris Corsano,
James Chance & The Contortions,
K-Klass,
The Gun Club,
Bob Dylan,
Sex Pistols,
Eurythmics,
Maleditus Sound,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
World's Most,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Mars,
Tom Boy,
Lightning Bolt,
Charles Mingus,
Rekid,
The Kinks,
The Selecter,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Techniques,
Talk Talk,
In Retrospect,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Black Moon,
Royal Trux,
June Days,
The Knickerbockers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Iggy Pop,
E-Dancer,
Jandek,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.