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 Armenia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
The Tremeloes,
Steve Hackett,
DJ Style,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
The Selecter,
D'Angelo,
Althea and Donna,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fatback Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Howard Jones,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül II,
B.T. Express,
Todd Rundgren,
Motorama,
Dennis Brown,
Magma,
Jimmy McGriff,
LL Cool J,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barbara Tucker,
The Cure,
Sex Pistols,
Talk Talk,
The Pretty Things,
Roger Hodgson,
Minor Threat,
Iggy Pop,
8 Eyed Spy,
Second Layer,
New York Dolls,
The Mummies,
The Barracudas,
Funky Four + One,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pulsallama,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Human League,
Scan 7,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter and Kerry,
Wings,
The Associates,
Harmonia,
John Foxx,
The Beau Brummels,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Average White Band,
the Normal,
Deakin,
Bizarre Inc.,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.