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 Albania and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Jerry's Kids to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boredoms,
Scientists,
Average White Band,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Blancmange,
Bronski Beat,
LL Cool J,
Vladislav Delay,
Public Image Ltd.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Audionom,
The Five Americans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Techniques,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Womack,
Cameo,
John Lydon,
China Crisis,
Flash Fearless,
Robert Görl,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harry Pussy,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bob Dylan,
Minnie Riperton,
Ituana,
Yellowson,
Peter & Gordon,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Loose Ends,
Charles Mingus,
The Cramps,
The Pop Group,
Minutemen,
June Days,
Dark Day,
the Swans,
The Music Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cheater Slicks,
Siglo XX,
Byron Stingily,
Spoonie Gee,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lyres,
Radiopuhelimet,
Henry Cow,
Urselle,
Joe Finger,
Heaven 17,
Tropical Tobacco,
Country Teasers,
Oblivians,
Eurythmics,
Lungfish,
The Motions,
H. Thieme,
The Red Krayola,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.