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 Nepal and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the snare 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 Velvet Underground to the funk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Skriet,
Henry Cow,
Ice-T,
Al Stewart,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jerry's Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Saints,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Boz Scaggs,
Ponytail,
The Evens,
Rites of Spring,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lindisfarne,
X-Ray Spex,
Television Personalities,
Lyres,
Pylon,
Camouflage,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Dead Boys,
Wings,
Lungfish,
Michelle Simonal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Unrelated Segments,
Popol Vuh,
Flipper,
The Beau Brummels,
Lower 48,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
The Move,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aural Exciters,
ABC,
The Black Dice,
Bush Tetras,
Subhumans,
Ludus,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Germs,
X-101,
Slick Rick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
DJ Sneak,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Grauzone,
Zero Boys,
Blancmange,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marvin Gaye,
Simply Red,
This Heat,
Scrapy,
Depeche Mode,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.