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 Maldives and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 guitar 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 Doors to the rock 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Mary Jane Girls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Easy Going,
Soft Machine,
The Litter,
The Real Kids,
Bauhaus,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Dirtbombs,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
Laurel Aitken,
Excepter,
Dawn Penn,
Blake Baxter,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sonic Youth,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Massinfluence,
Second Layer,
Gong,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Terry Callier,
David Axelrod,
the Soft Cell,
DJ Sneak,
Sandy B,
T. Rex,
Nas,
The Beau Brummels,
The Fugs,
Toni Rubio,
Moby Grape,
Henry Cow,
Peter & Gordon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
The Blues Magoos,
JFA,
Nils Olav,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Lindisfarne,
New Order,
Chris Corsano,
The Pop Group,
Robert Hood,
Eve St. Jones,
Clear Light,
Ken Boothe,
Section 25,
Spandau Ballet,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
Dave Gahan,
Metal Thangz,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Toasters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
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.