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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin 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 Outsiders to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Banda Bassotti,
The Move,
X-102,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moleskins,
Zero Boys,
Icehouse,
Girls At Our Best!,
X-Ray Spex,
Brand Nubian,
Yaz,
the Slits,
Blake Baxter,
Minutemen,
Delta 5,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantaleimon,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Make Up,
Janne Schatter,
The Martian,
Ultravox,
Sugar Minott,
The Index,
Circle Jerks,
the Germs,
Dark Day,
Blossom Toes,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Babytalk,
Moss Icon,
The Evens,
June Days,
Kas Product,
The Velvet Underground,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Moon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Henry Cow,
Goldenarms,
Swans,
The Misunderstood,
Graham Central Station,
The Beau Brummels,
Maleditus Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Heaven 17,
Skarface,
The New Christs,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
Silicon Teens,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Smoke,
Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté, Ultra Naté.
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.