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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Arab on Radar to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
10cc,
The Invisible,
The New Christs,
The Seeds,
Tubeway Army,
Amazonics,
Metal Thangz,
The Martian,
Joy Division,
The Cramps,
Letta Mbulu,
Morten Harket,
John Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Severed Heads,
Man Eating Sloth,
Can,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
The Gories,
Interpol,
June Days,
John Cale,
The Slits,
the Soft Cell,
Roxette,
Laurel Aitken,
Kas Product,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lalann,
Dark Day,
Jandek,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Althea and Donna,
ABBA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Supertramp,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T. Rex,
Bill Wells,
Bad Manners,
The Stooges,
Ohio Players,
Thompson Twins,
Nils Olav,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Guru Guru,
The Electric Prunes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hardrive,
The Techniques,
Jacques Brel,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Dawn Penn,
The Doors,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Starr,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Parrish,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.