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 Micronesia and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Stiv Bators to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Kinks. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Robert Görl,
Symarip,
Unrelated Segments,
Agent Orange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joyce Sims,
The American Breed,
Derrick Morgan,
Wings,
The Motions,
Sixth Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ken Boothe,
KRS-One,
Excepter,
T.S.O.L.,
Davy DMX,
David Axelrod,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeff Mills,
Circle Jerks,
Duran Duran,
Graham Central Station,
Todd Terry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Groovy Waters,
Pagans,
Franke,
cv313,
Eurythmics,
R.M.O.,
Ice-T,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter,
Surgeon,
48th St. Collective,
Qualms,
Fluxion,
June Days,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rosa Yemen,
The Smiths,
Ludus,
Ponytail,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Star Department,
Bill Near,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
Simply Red,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Slick Rick,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.