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 Seychelles and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Bob Dylan to the rap 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
The Trojans,
Brass Construction,
kango's stein massive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lakeside,
Flipper,
Marine Girls,
Icehouse,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Buckinghams,
The Walker Brothers,
Technova,
Bush Tetras,
Duran Duran,
Scientists,
Byron Stingily,
Hot Snakes,
Althea and Donna,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jandek,
Joy Division,
Cymande,
Qualms,
Radiohead,
T.S.O.L.,
Stiv Bators,
Jesper Dahlback,
Trumans Water,
Infiniti,
Slave,
Leonard Cohen,
Goldenarms,
Wally Richardson,
Wire,
Bluetip,
Fatback Band,
Desert Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nick Fraelich,
Erykah Badu,
Lower 48,
Newcleus,
The Index,
Aural Exciters,
Lightning Bolt,
The Monochrome Set,
Kool Moe Dee,
F. McDonald,
One Last Wish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Amazonics,
Rod Modell,
Sarah Menescal,
The Cure,
Young Marble Giants,
DJ Style,
Rufus Thomas,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.