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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bob Dylan to the punk 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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Steve Hackett,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Skatalites,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Clear Light,
Bill Near,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Names,
Spoonie Gee,
kango's stein massive,
Dark Day,
Dead Boys,
Interpol,
Trumans Water,
Marmalade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
E-Dancer,
Boz Scaggs,
Massinfluence,
The Cramps,
Easy Going,
R.M.O.,
Pole,
The Slits,
Gabor Szabo,
Arthur Verocai,
Barbara Tucker,
Bootsy Collins,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ornette Coleman,
Saccharine Trust,
The Black Dice,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marine Girls,
Basic Channel,
Ponytail,
Don Cherry,
Young Marble Giants,
The Modern Lovers,
Pantaleimon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Funky Four + One,
a-ha,
Neil Young,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Marvin Gaye,
Thee Headcoats,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Knickerbockers,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wings,
Reuben Wilson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kerri Chandler,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.