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 Guinea-Bissau and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Henry Cow to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ 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 clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Monks,
The Remains,
Nirvana,
Nick Fraelich,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
ABC,
Make Up,
Stereo Dub,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Holt,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dawn Penn,
the Sonics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacques Brel,
Ossler,
Wolf Eyes,
Reagan Youth,
Audionom,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jeff Mills,
John Cale,
Bizarre Inc.,
X-Ray Spex,
The Durutti Column,
Bill Near,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Von Mondo,
Archie Shepp,
Jimmy McGriff,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lyres,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Last Poets,
China Crisis,
Con Funk Shun,
Slave,
John Foxx,
June Days,
Erykah Badu,
Hot Snakes,
Interpol,
Zero Boys,
Peter & Gordon,
Mission of Burma,
The Black Dice,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pole,
EPMD,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Chrome,
Sonic Youth,
the Soft Cell,
The Human League,
Marshall Jefferson,
Spandau Ballet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tomorrow,
Roxy Music,
Yaz,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.