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 Seychelles and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rod Modell to the techno 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Depeche Mode record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q and Not U,
The Neon Judgement,
Pet Shop Boys,
Faraquet,
Maleditus Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ossler,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Neu!,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funkadelic,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mission of Burma,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
The Alarm Clocks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
Loose Ends,
Barbara Tucker,
Kerri Chandler,
Alton Ellis,
Ronan,
MDC,
Ronnie Foster,
The Grass Roots,
Laurel Aitken,
Buzzcocks,
Negative Approach,
Soul II Soul,
Grauzone,
Sight & Sound,
Crime,
Man Parrish,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Interpol,
Brass Construction,
The Angels of Light,
Susan Cadogan,
The Seeds,
ABC,
DJ Style,
The Moody Blues,
The Human League,
Alphaville,
Quadrant,
the Germs,
Kaleidoscope,
The Walker Brothers,
Black Bananas,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith, Patti Smith.
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.