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 Nepal and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 harpsichord 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 Boz Scaggs to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alphaville record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
the Slits,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Happenings,
Patti Smith,
8 Eyed Spy,
Althea and Donna,
Ralphi Rosario,
Wasted Youth,
Khruangbin,
Moebius,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Audionom,
The Victims,
Au Pairs,
The Residents,
Marc Almond,
The Fortunes,
Marine Girls,
Black Bananas,
Mr. Review,
Schoolly D,
Sugar Minott,
Bobby Womack,
Jacques Brel,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Chris & Cosey,
Suburban Knight,
Toni Rubio,
The Velvet Underground,
Liliput,
Anthony Braxton,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
Franke,
Crime,
The Trojans,
Jacob Miller,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Minny Pops,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bronski Beat,
Maleditus Sound,
The American Breed,
Sight & Sound,
T. Rex,
Deadbeat,
The Real Kids,
KRS-One,
Isaac Hayes,
the Association,
Graham Central Station,
the Swans,
Ponytail,
X-Ray Spex,
Banda Bassotti,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mark Hollis,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.