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 Denmark and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro 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 Inner City to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Supertramp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
Cal Tjader,
Bad Manners,
The Neon Judgement,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joy Division,
Tres Demented,
Grauzone,
The Busters,
The Seeds,
K-Klass,
New York Dolls,
Little Man,
Interpol,
Nik Kershaw,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ultravox,
Dead Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
The Techniques,
Ultimate Spinach,
Animal Collective,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
FM Einheit,
The Divine Comedy,
Mantronix,
Motorama,
Boogie Down Productions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Brass Construction,
Tom Boy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Moby Grape,
Joe Smooth,
Toni Rubio,
Procol Harum,
Eric B and Rakim,
Livin' Joy,
Byron Stingily,
Fela Kuti,
Clear Light,
Ten City,
KRS-One,
These Immortal Souls,
Depeche Mode,
Adolescents,
Oblivians,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter and Kerry,
The Leaves,
Simply Red,
June of 44,
Sun City Girls,
Banda Bassotti,
Echospace,
Unwound,
Janne Schatter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.