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 Namibia and from Beijing.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Nation of Ulysses to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Los Fastidios,
Quadrant,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
James White and The Blacks,
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bill Near,
Derrick May,
Suburban Knight,
Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
The Gap Band,
the Bar-Kays,
Albert Ayler,
Eric B and Rakim,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Ralphi Rosario,
Jerry's Kids,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
The Slackers,
Unwound,
Dave Gahan,
Lou Christie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
John Lydon,
Guru Guru,
Pulsallama,
Jimmy McGriff,
Little Man,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter & Gordon,
Steve Hackett,
the Association,
The Gun Club,
Marc Almond,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Anakelly,
Robert Hood,
Pole,
The Residents,
Avey Tare,
Infiniti,
Essential Logic,
The Moleskins,
Faraquet,
The United States of America,
The Offenders,
Robert Wyatt,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Coltrane,
The Martian,
Tears for Fears,
Intrusion,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.