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 Slovenia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South 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 Scrapy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jandek. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sandy B,
David McCallum,
Wire,
Neil Young,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Swell Maps,
Thompson Twins,
Nik Kershaw,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Junior Murvin,
Quadrant,
The Cowsills,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Starr,
Unrelated Segments,
Ken Boothe,
Oblivians,
Graham Central Station,
These Immortal Souls,
The Doors,
Procol Harum,
La Düsseldorf,
Sight & Sound,
Blancmange,
Severed Heads,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Almond,
Urselle,
Supertramp,
Das Ding,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fat Boys,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Blackbyrds,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Toasters,
The Cure,
Monolake,
Albert Ayler,
Fatback Band,
Au Pairs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Tears for Fears,
The Young Rascals,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Easy Going,
Pagans,
The Pop Group,
Bush Tetras,
Make Up,
Basic Channel,
Lou Christie,
Television,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Nico,
Ultravox,
New Order,
James Chance & The Contortions,
R.M.O.,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.