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 Liechtenstein and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar 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 Monks to the punk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Tropical Tobacco,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
Godley & Creme,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Byrd,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronan,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Fugs,
Black Sheep,
Michelle Simonal,
Moebius,
Make Up,
Kenny Larkin,
Amazonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
Scientists,
Guru Guru,
Ludus,
Swans,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Star Department,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
The Count Five,
Ultravox,
Chris & Cosey,
The Birthday Party,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Litter,
Brass Construction,
Deadbeat,
The Trojans,
Bill Wells,
June of 44,
Negative Approach,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
In Retrospect,
Connie Case,
Y Pants,
Robert Wyatt,
Flipper,
Prince Buster,
Mo-Dettes,
The Velvet Underground,
Nas,
the Swans,
Joey Negro,
The Names,
The Evens,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
David Bowie,
Livin' Joy,
The Divine Comedy,
Funky Four + One,
Todd Terry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fortunes,
Jeff Mills,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.