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 Cameroon and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ 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 The Offenders to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultramagnetic MC's record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
10cc,
Fear,
The Shadows of Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fuzztones,
Avey Tare,
The Gories,
Donald Byrd,
The Blues Magoos,
Sixth Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
Crime,
Ossler,
Altered Images,
Thompson Twins,
Qualms,
Kerrie Biddell,
Graham Central Station,
Charles Mingus,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Leaves,
The Neon Judgement,
The Kinks,
Visage,
Rufus Thomas,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Byrd,
X-Ray Spex,
Sex Pistols,
Roxette,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
Royal Trux,
Quantec,
Nik Kershaw,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Negative Approach,
Bush Tetras,
Pussy Galore,
Rod Modell,
Section 25,
Skarface,
Nirvana,
The Gun Club,
John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Skriet,
Tubeway Army,
Hasil Adkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Black Flag,
Josef K,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Detroit Cobras,
Masters at Work,
Vladislav Delay,
H. Thieme,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.