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 Macedonia and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the grunge 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Stetsasonic,
Cheater Slicks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Procol Harum,
Chrome,
The Monks,
Goldenarms,
Gichy Dan,
Porter Ricks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Freddie Wadling,
the Germs,
Deakin,
Angry Samoans,
Funky Four + One,
Bauhaus,
Bill Near,
John Foxx,
Boz Scaggs,
Fugazi,
R.M.O.,
Basic Channel,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Gap Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Cameo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Angels of Light,
Mark Hollis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Duran Duran,
Essential Logic,
Warsaw,
CMW,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
Patti Smith,
Fatback Band,
Glambeats Corp.,
Model 500,
Newcleus,
Mandrill,
Massinfluence,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cybotron,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Peter and Kerry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Subhumans,
The Buckinghams,
Tim Buckley,
Robert Hood,
the Slits,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.