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 Somalia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Nick Fraelich to the dance 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
Black Flag,
Roy Ayers,
Organ,
Gabor Szabo,
Terry Callier,
Mandrill,
Janne Schatter,
Joyce Sims,
Rotary Connection,
Bootsy Collins,
Index,
Jeff Mills,
Blancmange,
Delon & Dalcan,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
The Durutti Column,
Fat Boys,
Ituana,
The Dave Clark Five,
Goldenarms,
Franke,
Mission of Burma,
Section 25,
Wasted Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
The Vogues,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Black Bananas,
Lou Reed,
Kaleidoscope,
Stetsasonic,
Lungfish,
Hardrive,
James White and The Blacks,
The Mojo Men,
David McCallum,
Wolf Eyes,
Altered Images,
Vladislav Delay,
Fear,
Camberwell Now,
John Lydon,
The Fuzztones,
Circle Jerks,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Residents,
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
Cybotron,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Make Up,
The Star Department,
Tomorrow,
Crime,
The Index,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.