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 Bhutan and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brand Nubian to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every One Last Wish 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 mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Arcadia,
Johnny Clarke,
Neu!,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Brothers Johnson,
These Immortal Souls,
Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Wally Richardson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Trojans,
Tim Buckley,
Das Ding,
James White and The Blacks,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Inner City,
the Germs,
Zero Boys,
The Names,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultravox,
Eric Copeland,
Rapeman,
Adolescents,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cecil Taylor,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Public Image Ltd.,
Vainqueur,
Bauhaus,
The Birthday Party,
Laurel Aitken,
Isaac Hayes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Scientists,
T.S.O.L.,
Jandek,
Janne Schatter,
Lindisfarne,
Accadde A,
Spandau Ballet,
Monolake,
Magma,
June of 44,
Susan Cadogan,
Scott Walker,
Cheater Slicks,
Moss Icon,
Livin' Joy,
World's Most,
Bill Wells,
Glenn Branca,
Barrington Levy,
Jacques Brel,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sugar Minott,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moleskins,
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.