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 Morocco and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro 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 Howard Jones to the grunge 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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Das Ding,
The Knickerbockers,
Eddi Front,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nas,
The Litter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Q and Not U,
The Raincoats,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Sun City Girls,
Black Pus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Main Source,
Yellowson,
Joe Smooth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Camberwell Now,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Selecter,
Angry Samoans,
Loose Ends,
Smog,
Heaven 17,
Yazoo,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Amazonics,
Amon Düül,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grauzone,
Aswad,
The Fortunes,
The Music Machine,
The Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
Can,
Kayak,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
Josef K,
Excepter,
Carl Craig,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Bill Near,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Altered Images,
Masters at Work,
John Foxx,
Dark Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deepchord,
Tommy Roe,
The Evens,
Scientists,
Reuben Wilson,
MDC,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
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.