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 Swaziland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar 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 Tears for Fears to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
The Sound,
Interpol,
Maurizio,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Birthday Party,
The Fortunes,
Desert Stars,
Crime,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Vladislav Delay,
Man Eating Sloth,
U.S. Maple,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed,
Bush Tetras,
Soul II Soul,
The New Christs,
Vainqueur,
The Slits,
The Monochrome Set,
Camberwell Now,
Niagra,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gichy Dan,
The Evens,
Schoolly D,
DJ Style,
Ken Boothe,
The Pretty Things,
Spoonie Gee,
Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
The Angels of Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Idris Muhammad,
Sandy B,
Anakelly,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
Circle Jerks,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Mills,
Wings,
Tommy Roe,
Gang of Four,
Metal Thangz,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Essential Logic,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.