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 Equatorial Guinea and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 Tears for Fears to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
DNA,
Crooked Eye,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Fear,
Warren Ellis,
Rosa Yemen,
The Durutti Column,
Susan Cadogan,
Mad Mike,
Lucky Dragons,
Porter Ricks,
Royal Trux,
The Beau Brummels,
Main Source,
The Martian,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Normal,
Black Sheep,
Banda Bassotti,
The Mojo Men,
Roger Hodgson,
Ornette Coleman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Urselle,
Q65,
Ohio Players,
Yusef Lateef,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blancmange,
Alice Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Pylon,
The Happenings,
The Cure,
The J.B.'s,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Danielle Patucci,
Blossom Toes,
Goldenarms,
Little Man,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Christie,
The Wake,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Alarm Clocks,
John Lydon,
Pharoah Sanders,
Organ,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Barrington Levy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unwound,
Kool Moe Dee,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.