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 Nicaragua and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Alphaville to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Wolf Eyes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
Sex Pistols,
The Smiths,
Metal Thangz,
Wasted Youth,
Warsaw,
The Birthday Party,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
Howard Jones,
Ohio Players,
Pere Ubu,
Drive Like Jehu,
Amon Düül II,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Red Krayola,
Ituana,
Barbara Tucker,
Malaria!,
Stetsasonic,
Radiohead,
Michelle Simonal,
Joe Smooth,
The Move,
Dennis Brown,
Rapeman,
Yellowson,
Theoretical Girls,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Arcadia,
Eric Dolphy,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Blossom Toes,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rod Modell,
the Soft Cell,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Robert Wyatt,
Goldenarms,
Junior Murvin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Monks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Misunderstood,
MC5,
Magma,
Toni Rubio,
Harry Pussy,
Subhumans,
Depeche Mode,
Bad Manners,
Flash Fearless,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.