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 Turkmenistan and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 New Christs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Davy DMX. All the underground hits.
All The Durutti Column tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Aloha Tigers,
the Soft Cell,
10cc,
Quando Quango,
Judy Mowatt,
Nas,
The Names,
Goldenarms,
Bauhaus,
Suburban Knight,
La Düsseldorf,
Main Source,
Aswad,
The Alarm Clocks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sandy B,
Moebius,
Bluetip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arab on Radar,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tom Boy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Nirvana,
Joensuu 1685,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bob Dylan,
Cecil Taylor,
Index,
Byron Stingily,
R.M.O.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Human League,
Glenn Branca,
The Beau Brummels,
Rosa Yemen,
Livin' Joy,
Q and Not U,
Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Hoover,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Patti Smith,
The Searchers,
X-102,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fear,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
Hasil Adkins,
Jandek,
Rhythm & Sound,
Minutemen,
Lou Reed,
This Heat,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.