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 Maldives 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 sitar 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 The Golliwogs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Spandau Ballet,
Janne Schatter,
FM Einheit,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Desert Stars,
John Holt,
Neil Young,
The Martian,
Delta 5,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Charles Mingus,
Pole,
The Gap Band,
Drexciya,
Bob Dylan,
Masters at Work,
Max Romeo,
Pussy Galore,
Fatback Band,
Lou Christie,
KRS-One,
Ronan,
Crime,
Joe Finger,
Young Marble Giants,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
the Sonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Banda Bassotti,
Peter and Kerry,
Archie Shepp,
E-Dancer,
Cameo,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cluster,
The Fugs,
Make Up,
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlback,
ABC,
Kayak,
Black Bananas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bobby Sherman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blake Baxter,
Zapp,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Q and Not U,
Tom Boy,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.