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 Vanuatu and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Letta Mbulu to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Con Funk Shun,
Nirvana,
Grauzone,
Scrapy,
Masters at Work,
Franke,
Eric Dolphy,
The Five Americans,
Cameo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
This Heat,
Howard Jones,
The Last Poets,
Index,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Mojo Men,
Harmonia,
John Lydon,
The Fuzztones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T.S.O.L.,
Kas Product,
Toni Rubio,
Cluster,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Can,
Barbara Tucker,
Yusef Lateef,
Barrington Levy,
Nils Olav,
Ronnie Foster,
Fela Kuti,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang Starr,
Marine Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Sam Rivers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minutemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Main Source,
Negative Approach,
Ice-T,
Excepter,
The Birthday Party,
John Foxx,
kango's stein massive,
Echospace,
Dave Gahan,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Bourne,
Goldenarms,
Fear,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skriet,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.