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 Andorra and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Harry Pussy to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Matthew Halsall,
Los Fastidios,
Frankie Knuckles,
B.T. Express,
Radio Birdman,
Theoretical Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
JFA,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mars,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gang Starr,
Joyce Sims,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté,
Slick Rick,
China Crisis,
Sarah Menescal,
Grandmaster Flash,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Sam Rivers,
Steve Hackett,
Drive Like Jehu,
Terry Callier,
Television Personalities,
The Fuzztones,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Todd Terry,
Mantronix,
Dawn Penn,
Hardrive,
David McCallum,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moss Icon,
Wally Richardson,
The Monks,
Susan Cadogan,
Skarface,
The Knickerbockers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Laurel Aitken,
Sun City Girls,
The Martian,
Anakelly,
Inner City,
Swell Maps,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cybotron,
Nirvana,
Wire,
Sun Ra,
David Bowie,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.