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 Congo and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Goldenarms 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 The Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
LL Cool J,
the Normal,
Desert Stars,
Deakin,
Pantaleimon,
F. McDonald,
R.M.O.,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sight & Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Malaria!,
Sandy B,
CMW,
Dead Boys,
Average White Band,
Dark Day,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mission of Burma,
The J.B.'s,
X-102,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vainqueur,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Talk Talk,
Yazoo,
Gang Green,
Todd Terry,
Gang of Four,
Connie Case,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fugs,
The Index,
Grauzone,
Lou Christie,
Peter and Kerry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kayak,
The Kinks,
the Soft Cell,
Negative Approach,
Black Flag,
Von Mondo,
Suicide,
Simply Red,
Josef K,
Harry Pussy,
Model 500,
Hashim,
Iggy Pop,
K-Klass,
Minny Pops,
Glenn Branca,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lucky Dragons,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Real Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Motorama,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.