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 Spain and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Steve Hackett to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantaleimon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Bob Dylan,
Tim Buckley,
The Fuzztones,
Metal Thangz,
Joyce Sims,
Archie Shepp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Guru Guru,
The Doobie Brothers,
Funky Four + One,
Khruangbin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rites of Spring,
Gang Green,
The Birthday Party,
The Martian,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultra Naté,
The Saints,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Pussy Galore,
Throbbing Gristle,
Intrusion,
The Electric Prunes,
Mark Hollis,
Newcleus,
the Normal,
Jeff Mills,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Slick Rick,
Blancmange,
The Mojo Men,
Jerry's Kids,
The Five Americans,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Wyatt,
Trumans Water,
Matthew Halsall,
Cluster,
The Motions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Monolake,
The Barracudas,
Brass Construction,
Max Romeo,
Maurizio,
Suicide,
Jandek,
Black Moon,
the Human League,
Graham Central Station,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
June of 44,
Scratch Acid,
Letta Mbulu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Funkadelic,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.