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 Grenada and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Whodini to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bronski Beat,
Connie Case,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sex Pistols,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Skaos,
The Flesh Eaters,
Matthew Halsall,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Excepter,
The Wake,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kenny Larkin,
Fatback Band,
Sun City Girls,
Moebius,
AZ,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mark Hollis,
The Index,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Tubeway Army,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Rotary Connection,
Negative Approach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Amon Düül,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Dirtbombs,
Intrusion,
Radio Birdman,
David McCallum,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Curtis Mayfield,
Unwound,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Mojo Men,
Black Flag,
Crime,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scott Walker,
Massinfluence,
Interpol,
Motorama,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover,
the Association,
Terry Callier,
Stereo Dub,
Television Personalities,
Joensuu 1685,
Alison Limerick,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.