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 El Salvador and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 the Human League to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lyres,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
The Mummies,
Jacob Miller,
John Coltrane,
Arthur Verocai,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cecil Taylor,
Jeff Mills,
New York Dolls,
Rod Modell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobby Sherman,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neu!,
Electric Prunes,
Talk Talk,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Livin' Joy,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
Boredoms,
Quadrant,
The Litter,
Eric Copeland,
Siglo XX,
Yellowson,
The Walker Brothers,
Colin Newman,
Tommy Roe,
The Selecter,
The Dirtbombs,
Warsaw,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Television Personalities,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Desert Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cymande,
Heaven 17,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pere Ubu,
Pole,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bronski Beat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
Rapeman,
Mars,
Wally Richardson,
Chrome,
Delta 5,
Kenny Larkin,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.