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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Parry Music to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cosmic Jokers. All the underground hits.
All In Retrospect tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Saccharine Trust record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stereo Dub,
X-101,
Scrapy,
Brass Construction,
LL Cool J,
John Cale,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Loose Ends,
Ice-T,
Donald Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Pussy Galore,
Gerry Rafferty,
OOIOO,
Sound Behaviour,
Robert Hood,
Ludus,
Ultravox,
Metal Thangz,
Symarip,
The Cure,
A Certain Ratio,
Youth Brigade,
David Axelrod,
Kenny Larkin,
Erasure,
Amon Düül,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Section 25,
The New Christs,
Inner City,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David McCallum,
Visage,
Pulsallama,
Yellowson,
Electric Prunes,
Shoche,
Nirvana,
John Lydon,
X-Ray Spex,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman,
Roxette,
Maurizio,
Faust,
The Invisible,
Clear Light,
Zero Boys,
Dead Boys,
Mandrill,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Talk Talk,
Ultra Naté,
Byron Stingily,
Das Ding,
Godley & Creme,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.