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 Beijing.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Scientists to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Justin Hinds & The Dominoes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt 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?
Chris Corsano,
John Foxx,
X-Ray Spex,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ludus,
Joyce Sims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lindisfarne,
Sister Nancy,
Urselle,
Blancmange,
Infiniti,
The Black Dice,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marc Almond,
Flamin' Groovies,
Reuben Wilson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Procol Harum,
Deakin,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
Sandy B,
Silicon Teens,
The Move,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABBA,
Erasure,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Quantec,
The Doors,
The Cure,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Slackers,
Tubeway Army,
Nick Fraelich,
Parry Music,
The Dead C,
B.T. Express,
Scott Walker,
June of 44,
June Days,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Avey Tare,
The Happenings,
FM Einheit,
Theoretical Girls,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Reed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Darondo,
Jeff Mills,
Freddie Wadling,
Audionom,
Leonard Cohen,
Boredoms,
Dorothy Ashby,
Warren Ellis,
Marvin Gaye,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.