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 Kosovo and from Jakarta.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Doors to the funk 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yellowson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Vladislav Delay,
Scratch Acid,
The Dead C,
Oblivians,
Soul II Soul,
Janne Schatter,
Mo-Dettes,
Drexciya,
Trumans Water,
The Monochrome Set,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
Magma,
Yazoo,
The Trojans,
Supertramp,
Flamin' Groovies,
Howard Jones,
Mad Mike,
Sex Pistols,
Gabor Szabo,
Banda Bassotti,
Laurel Aitken,
James White and The Blacks,
Fatback Band,
World's Most,
Rites of Spring,
Bronski Beat,
Kas Product,
Los Fastidios,
Eric Copeland,
Deepchord,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Kinks,
The Raincoats,
The Music Machine,
The Index,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Sonics,
Moby Grape,
Newcleus,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Darondo,
The Tremeloes,
Grauzone,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Görl,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terry Callier,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Colin Newman,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gong,
Bobby Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
DJ Sneak,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.