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 Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pantytec to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Neu! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Associates 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Niagra,
The Pop Group,
The Standells,
Intrusion,
Roxy Music,
Kaleidoscope,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hot Snakes,
Derrick Morgan,
Eurythmics,
Procol Harum,
Sun Ra,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Colin Newman,
Ken Boothe,
The Fall,
Smog,
The Tremeloes,
the Human League,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Youth Brigade,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
Bad Manners,
The Flesh Eaters,
Radiohead,
Deepchord,
Pulsallama,
The Happenings,
Groovy Waters,
Silicon Teens,
Pussy Galore,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scott Walker,
Erykah Badu,
Todd Terry,
the Germs,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Saints,
Juan Atkins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Radio Birdman,
Ohio Players,
The Buckinghams,
Livin' Joy,
John Lydon,
Lightning Bolt,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Outsiders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Davy DMX,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Knickerbockers,
Infiniti,
Yellowson,
Das Ding,
Maurizio,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.