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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 oboe 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 B.T. Express to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Half Japanese record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Iggy Pop,
Q and Not U,
Bobby Byrd,
Angry Samoans,
F. McDonald,
Stetsasonic,
Connie Case,
Faraquet,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Outsiders,
The Seeds,
Shoche,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Pus,
Bauhaus,
Lungfish,
Laurel Aitken,
The Pop Group,
Josef K,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Divine Comedy,
Nick Fraelich,
Girls At Our Best!,
Tom Boy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Japan,
Arcadia,
Henry Cow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Barrington Levy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joe Finger,
Amon Düül,
The Walker Brothers,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dead C,
Boredoms,
Minor Threat,
The Cure,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Christie,
The Residents,
New York Dolls,
Todd Terry,
Albert Ayler,
China Crisis,
Spandau Ballet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
Malaria!,
Nas,
KRS-One,
Radiohead,
Ohio Players,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark.
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.