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 Georgia and from Taipei.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 JFA to the electroclash 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultravox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Terry Callier,
The Mummies,
The Selecter,
Swans,
Fela Kuti,
The Divine Comedy,
Technova,
Kurtis Blow,
Joy Division,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Cure,
Babytalk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Excepter,
This Heat,
Surgeon,
Saccharine Trust,
the Normal,
Gil Scott Heron,
Accadde A,
Icehouse,
Ronan,
Kerri Chandler,
Bad Manners,
June of 44,
Television,
T. Rex,
The Last Poets,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
Procol Harum,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Letta Mbulu,
Godley & Creme,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
Susan Cadogan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blake Baxter,
Derrick Morgan,
The Sound,
The Victims,
Sandy B,
Yaz,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The New Christs,
Eve St. Jones,
The Fuzztones,
Sonic Youth,
Lalann,
Slave,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Agitation Free,
Heaven 17,
Sun Ra,
Easy Going,
ABBA,
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül,
Zapp,
Bobby Sherman,
Idris Muhammad,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.