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 Milan.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Johnny Clarke to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
La Düsseldorf,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Young Marble Giants,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Soulsonic Force,
Erasure,
Crispy Ambulance,
Black Pus,
The Neon Judgement,
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-101,
Leonard Cohen,
Porter Ricks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lakeside,
Alice Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marmalade,
Junior Murvin,
Sister Nancy,
Nation of Ulysses,
MDC,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Frankie Knuckles,
Moby Grape,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pussy Galore,
Kenny Larkin,
Blancmange,
Camouflage,
Magazine,
The Raincoats,
Wally Richardson,
10cc,
Animal Collective,
the Human League,
Slick Rick,
Soft Cell,
Swell Maps,
Amon Düül,
OOIOO,
Oblivians,
Prince Buster,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Blake Baxter,
Deakin,
The Zeros,
H. Thieme,
The Human League,
Pulsallama,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Black Moon,
David McCallum,
Kurtis Blow,
Wasted Youth,
Pere Ubu,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.