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 Mauritania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Harmonia to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ultimate Spinach. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Image Ltd. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kaleidoscope,
Flamin' Groovies,
Magma,
Talk Talk,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Glambeats Corp.,
Glenn Branca,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Subhumans,
Roy Ayers,
Sun City Girls,
Organ,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
New Order,
Porter Ricks,
Blake Baxter,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Shadows of Knight,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
New York Dolls,
Junior Murvin,
Barry Ungar,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eden Ahbez,
Lungfish,
Grey Daturas,
Davy DMX,
John Holt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nico,
ABC,
Sandy B,
Agent Orange,
Radiopuhelimet,
Vladislav Delay,
Supertramp,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
Adolescents,
Drive Like Jehu,
This Heat,
Newcleus,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
Sexual Harrassment,
Little Man,
Bizarre Inc.,
Underground Resistance,
Quando Quango,
The Fall,
Hasil Adkins,
Bronski Beat,
Average White Band,
Second Layer,
The Slackers,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.