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 Ivory Coast and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Ponytail to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Lydon,
Rekid,
DJ Sneak,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Pussy Galore,
the Bar-Kays,
Y Pants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Pop Group,
Gastr Del Sol,
Girls At Our Best!,
Absolute Body Control,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aswad,
Godley & Creme,
Arcadia,
One Last Wish,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deadbeat,
The Beau Brummels,
CMW,
Crooked Eye,
Tommy Roe,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Urselle,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
Bang On A Can,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Bananas,
Hot Snakes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Swell Maps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ken Boothe,
the Association,
Hoover,
Procol Harum,
The Doors,
Television Personalities,
LL Cool J,
The Cowsills,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Animal Collective,
Janne Schatter,
The Searchers,
Nas,
Brothers Johnson,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
U.S. Maple,
Pet Shop Boys,
World's Most,
Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins, Juan Atkins.
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.