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 Mauritius and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Letta Mbulu to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aural Exciters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Stereo Dub,
Wire,
The Smoke,
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Misunderstood,
Ornette Coleman,
Japan,
Byron Stingily,
Lyres,
Jeff Lynne,
The Mojo Men,
The Gories,
Josef K,
Matthew Bourne,
Trumans Water,
AZ,
Gang Green,
Shoche,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
Black Moon,
Derrick Morgan,
Slick Rick,
Pussy Galore,
The Invisible,
Desert Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Average White Band,
The Durutti Column,
KRS-One,
Bronski Beat,
The Golliwogs,
These Immortal Souls,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Clarke,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper,
The Victims,
Faust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jandek,
Nirvana,
Eli Mardock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Deepchord,
Gichy Dan,
Hoover,
Letta Mbulu,
Tommy Roe,
Country Teasers,
Albert Ayler,
The Wake,
Qualms,
Rhythm & Sound,
Suicide,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.