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 Montenegro and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Smoke to the techno 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Negative Approach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mandrill,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
The Tremeloes,
Marc Almond,
Maurizio,
Warren Ellis,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Christie,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Marshall Jefferson,
Adolescents,
The Fall,
Fat Boys,
Robert Hood,
The Cramps,
B.T. Express,
Clear Light,
Zapp,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Soul Sonic Force,
Von Mondo,
The Count Five,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alton Ellis,
Jeff Mills,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scion,
The Toasters,
Infiniti,
Symarip,
Malaria!,
These Immortal Souls,
Oneida,
Archie Shepp,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Urselle,
Hashim,
Sight & Sound,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Model 500,
Leonard Cohen,
DJ Style,
The Index,
Vladislav Delay,
New York Dolls,
Wire,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lower 48,
Make Up,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Fear,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.