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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mumbai.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Simply Red to the funk 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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Buckinghams record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
World's Most,
10cc,
Wire,
Schoolly D,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Max Romeo,
The Skatalites,
Malaria!,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
MDC,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cluster,
The Wake,
Model 500,
Interpol,
Icehouse,
Television Personalities,
Nas,
Nirvana,
June of 44,
Procol Harum,
Wasted Youth,
Erykah Badu,
Brick,
Gang of Four,
John Holt,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Vogues,
Steve Hackett,
Grey Daturas,
T. Rex,
Patti Smith,
Fugazi,
Derrick Morgan,
Scott Walker,
Tres Demented,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Talk Talk,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Grandmaster Flash,
These Immortal Souls,
Nils Olav,
The Happenings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Invisible,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gichy Dan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Clarke,
Scientists,
Ohio Players,
New York Dolls,
Rakim,
Curtis Mayfield,
Agent Orange,
Depeche Mode,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.