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 Estonia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 808 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 New Age Steppers to the rap 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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
Surgeon,
X-102,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Standells,
The Residents,
Minutemen,
Scratch Acid,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Litter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
Organ,
DJ Style,
Bronski Beat,
Big Daddy Kane,
Average White Band,
Crispian St. Peters,
The United States of America,
Ossler,
The Neon Judgement,
Yellowson,
The Associates,
ABBA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Cure,
The Saints,
The Fall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
The Sonics,
Porter Ricks,
The Angels of Light,
Peter and Kerry,
June of 44,
The Stooges,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Gladiators,
Cecil Taylor,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Durutti Column,
Gerry Rafferty,
Susan Cadogan,
The Trojans,
Traffic Nightmare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Hasil Adkins,
Cybotron,
La Düsseldorf,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Golliwogs,
Darondo,
The J.B.'s,
Minnie Riperton,
Qualms,
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
PIL,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Theoretical Girls,
Josef K, Josef K, Josef K, Josef K.
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.