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 Monaco and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Spandau Ballet to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Das Ding,
Ken Boothe,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Dirtbombs,
Sister Nancy,
Echospace,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harpers Bizarre,
Icehouse,
Skaos,
A Certain Ratio,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Barry Ungar,
The J.B.'s,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultimate Spinach,
Saccharine Trust,
Altered Images,
Robert Wyatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Excepter,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Masters at Work,
the Germs,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
Zapp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Interpol,
Faust,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
JFA,
Yaz,
Erasure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Todd Terry,
Albert Ayler,
The Moleskins,
Radio Birdman,
The Gun Club,
The Flesh Eaters,
Heaven 17,
Groovy Waters,
FM Einheit,
Eli Mardock,
Gichy Dan,
D'Angelo,
Niagra,
Alice Coltrane,
Janne Schatter,
Lou Christie,
Quantec,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.