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 Palau and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lille.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fluxion to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Barry Ungar,
Aloha Tigers,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
The Remains,
Sex Pistols,
John Lydon,
Niagra,
The Move,
The Blues Magoos,
Blake Baxter,
Moebius,
Livin' Joy,
Minor Threat,
Outsiders,
Television Personalities,
Pet Shop Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cluster,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Surgeon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Thompson Twins,
Stetsasonic,
The Litter,
Derrick May,
The Grass Roots,
CMW,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cheater Slicks,
Hoover,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sandy B,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Franke,
New York Dolls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ken Boothe,
Jandek,
Slave,
The Pretty Things,
Aural Exciters,
Sight & Sound,
Guru Guru,
Lower 48,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tom Boy,
MDC,
AZ,
Fugazi,
Amazonics,
Urselle,
Jacques Brel,
Lindisfarne,
Brothers Johnson,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.