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 Senegal and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ash Ra Tempel 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Mars,
Talk Talk,
Don Cherry,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Gap Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Byrd,
Pulsallama,
Grauzone,
PIL,
Minor Threat,
The Monks,
World's Most,
Bluetip,
Marmalade,
Arthur Verocai,
Stereo Dub,
Arcadia,
Lyres,
Deepchord,
Dave Gahan,
Infiniti,
The Saints,
Heaven 17,
Quando Quango,
Ice-T,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
The Walker Brothers,
Joey Negro,
The Monochrome Set,
Royal Trux,
Au Pairs,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Aaron Thompson,
Scion,
Barrington Levy,
Albert Ayler,
Blossom Toes,
Ludus,
Interpol,
The Human League,
Little Man,
Gang of Four,
Aloha Tigers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Godley & Creme,
Bobby Sherman,
Joensuu 1685,
The Raincoats,
Black Bananas,
Dawn Penn,
The J.B.'s,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.