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 Libya and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar 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 Blake Baxter to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Connie Case,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Janne Schatter,
Eurythmics,
Siglo XX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Darondo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Sun City Girls,
Mad Mike,
Ornette Coleman,
Pole,
Accadde A,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Deadbeat,
Cheater Slicks,
Soft Cell,
Byron Stingily,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Foxx,
Khruangbin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
the Fania All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
David Bowie,
Joe Smooth,
Jeff Lynne,
The Index,
Parry Music,
Q and Not U,
Althea and Donna,
Quando Quango,
The Kinks,
Urselle,
Metal Thangz,
Aloha Tigers,
Skriet,
Oneida,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doobie Brothers,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
F. McDonald,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
Joensuu 1685,
The Birthday Party,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
Howard Jones,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.