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 Singapore and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 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 MDC to the disco 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Morten Harket tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Trumans Water,
E-Dancer,
The Kinks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Swans,
Cal Tjader,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terry Callier,
David Axelrod,
Scott Walker,
Lou Reed,
John Foxx,
The Misunderstood,
The Young Rascals,
CMW,
One Last Wish,
X-Ray Spex,
Anakelly,
The Grass Roots,
the Bar-Kays,
Jawbox,
The Monks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Moody Blues,
Eurythmics,
Oblivians,
Loose Ends,
Simply Red,
Gastr Del Sol,
Cheater Slicks,
Danielle Patucci,
Ultimate Spinach,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Byron Stingily,
Dave Gahan,
Can,
Mark Hollis,
Pylon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Young Marble Giants,
Metal Thangz,
Scientists,
Letta Mbulu,
Echospace,
Michelle Simonal,
The Trojans,
David McCallum,
Minor Threat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Hot Snakes,
The Last Poets,
Outsiders,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moleskins,
The Wake,
Malaria!,
Crime,
Davy DMX,
Rekid,
The Velvet Underground,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.