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 Afghanistan and from London.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Aural Exciters to the grime 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roger Hodgson,
The Cowsills,
Sun Ra,
Suicide,
Hardrive,
Mission of Burma,
Lower 48,
Public Enemy,
Bill Near,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Age Steppers,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lakeside,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Flash Fearless,
Crash Course in Science,
Cheater Slicks,
Johnny Osbourne,
Grey Daturas,
Tres Demented,
Q and Not U,
Tubeway Army,
June Days,
Icehouse,
the Association,
Outsiders,
Tears for Fears,
Goldenarms,
Bauhaus,
Magma,
Echospace,
Lou Reed,
Model 500,
Eric B and Rakim,
Von Mondo,
David Bowie,
Howard Jones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Mojo Men,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Crime,
Section 25,
The Standells,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Thompson Twins,
Isaac Hayes,
Pantaleimon,
Siglo XX,
Rekid,
The Offenders,
Alphaville,
Anthony Braxton,
MDC,
the Germs,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.