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 Bahrain and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Buckinghams to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Danielle Patucci,
Wally Richardson,
Faust,
Porter Ricks,
Dead Boys,
Vainqueur,
Camberwell Now,
Warren Ellis,
Reagan Youth,
Drexciya,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
Depeche Mode,
Skarface,
The Walker Brothers,
Interpol,
Lyres,
Television,
Trumans Water,
Bill Near,
L. Decosne,
Erasure,
The Slits,
Peter & Gordon,
Neu!,
The Red Krayola,
Nas,
Main Source,
Roxette,
Ultravox,
Eurythmics,
Iggy Pop,
the Normal,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
The Pretty Things,
Sex Pistols,
Bob Dylan,
Simply Red,
Aloha Tigers,
D'Angelo,
Amon Düül,
Roxy Music,
The Litter,
The Mummies,
The Searchers,
Rakim,
Young Marble Giants,
Michelle Simonal,
Fluxion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
Gichy Dan,
Jacob Miller,
Silicon Teens,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Throbbing Gristle,
David Bowie,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
A Certain Ratio,
Don Cherry,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.