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 India and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Subhumans to the grime 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Howard Jones,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ice-T,
JFA,
Skaos,
The Velvet Underground,
Pere Ubu,
New Age Steppers,
Aloha Tigers,
Hoover,
Duran Duran,
This Heat,
Suburban Knight,
Kevin Saunderson,
Unwound,
Lindisfarne,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
Yaz,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Inner City,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Connie Case,
The Young Rascals,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare,
Joe Finger,
The Angels of Light,
Eurythmics,
Spandau Ballet,
The Saints,
The Mojo Men,
Sound Behaviour,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Stereo Dub,
E-Dancer,
Gang Gang Dance,
B.T. Express,
the Soft Cell,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Modern Lovers,
Aural Exciters,
Eden Ahbez,
John Foxx,
Masters at Work,
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Wire,
Groovy Waters,
X-101,
Nick Fraelich,
Jeff Lynne,
The Leaves,
Bizarre Inc.,
Moss Icon,
Jandek,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fugazi,
The Blackbyrds,
The Victims, The Victims, The Victims, The Victims.
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.