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 Sri Lanka and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Black Sheep to the grime 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neu!,
Moss Icon,
Icehouse,
Niagra,
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
Altered Images,
Sixth Finger,
Piero Umiliani,
Ten City,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fugs,
Kurtis Blow,
DJ Sneak,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Tremeloes,
Drive Like Jehu,
MDC,
Siglo XX,
Visage,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Derrick May,
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Wolf Eyes,
the Soft Cell,
Franke,
Ituana,
Make Up,
Public Enemy,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eric Dolphy,
Panda Bear,
Television,
Kayak,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sandy B,
Vladislav Delay,
Eurythmics,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sam Rivers,
Moebius,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Mills,
B.T. Express,
Joy Division,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Move,
Lou Reed,
The Gap Band,
Clear Light,
Desert Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blues Magoos,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.