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 El Salvador and from Mumbai.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Seeds to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Sun City Girls,
Don Cherry,
Aswad,
The Residents,
The Music Machine,
Second Layer,
Prince Buster,
Severed Heads,
Wolf Eyes,
Fear,
The Standells,
Aloha Tigers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Peter and Kerry,
Outsiders,
The Black Dice,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
Neil Young,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yellowson,
Fad Gadget,
The Searchers,
B.T. Express,
Sparks,
Vainqueur,
Bootsy Collins,
Quadrant,
China Crisis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Josef K,
X-101,
Pulsallama,
The Real Kids,
The Pretty Things,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Almond,
Delon & Dalcan,
Radiohead,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Amazonics,
Al Stewart,
The Tremeloes,
The Toasters,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Bowie,
The Monochrome Set,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Erykah Badu,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Smog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June Days,
Susan Cadogan,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.