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 Afghanistan and from Tokyo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro 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 Gang Green 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Marc Almond,
The Doobie Brothers,
Hasil Adkins,
Lyres,
Crooked Eye,
The Invisible,
the Soft Cell,
Bush Tetras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kas Product,
Nik Kershaw,
Lalo Schifrin,
James White and The Blacks,
Erasure,
Franke,
Ossler,
Jeff Mills,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Chrome,
Ponytail,
Jeff Lynne,
The Sonics,
The New Christs,
Marine Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
June Days,
Judy Mowatt,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Tears for Fears,
The Toasters,
Ken Boothe,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bill Near,
Letta Mbulu,
Harpers Bizarre,
Steve Hackett,
Shoche,
Kerrie Biddell,
Darondo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Circle Jerks,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flash Fearless,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
Kayak,
Guru Guru,
Ten City,
Tres Demented,
Rufus Thomas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moss Icon,
Outsiders,
Bobby Sherman,
Television Personalities,
Sixth Finger,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.