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 Malta and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the rap 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 Ituana. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Malaria!,
Scott Walker,
T. Rex,
Arcadia,
Scientists,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Faust,
The Barracudas,
The Searchers,
Junior Murvin,
Half Japanese,
D'Angelo,
Lightning Bolt,
The Durutti Column,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sun Ra,
Marvin Gaye,
The Busters,
China Crisis,
Crispian St. Peters,
Little Man,
E-Dancer,
CMW,
Mary Jane Girls,
Youth Brigade,
Jacques Brel,
Derrick Morgan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Harry Pussy,
Brick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Todd Terry,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Scrapy,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
Crime,
Mission of Burma,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dead Boys,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
A Flock of Seagulls,
New York Dolls,
Parry Music,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tom Boy,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Pole,
Soul II Soul,
The Fuzztones,
Radiohead,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Techniques,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.