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 Switzerland and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Motions to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Johnny Clarke,
Popol Vuh,
Leonard Cohen,
K-Klass,
Smog,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultravox,
Little Man,
David McCallum,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
R.M.O.,
T.S.O.L.,
The Motions,
Ohio Players,
the Normal,
Scientists,
Minny Pops,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Loose Ends,
DNA,
The Busters,
Spandau Ballet,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
The Vogues,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Music Machine,
Pierre Henry,
Peter and Kerry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pussy Galore,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Tres Demented,
Man Parrish,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Livin' Joy,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Divine Comedy,
The Trojans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erykah Badu,
Dead Boys,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cure,
Metal Thangz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Black Sheep,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
A Certain Ratio,
Funky Four + One,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Deakin,
Robert Wyatt,
Bobby Byrd,
Fela Kuti,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.