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 Norway and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Davy DMX 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Victims,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lou Reed,
Boredoms,
Dark Day,
The Beau Brummels,
AZ,
Swans,
Lungfish,
Anakelly,
Camouflage,
ABBA,
Eddi Front,
Gang Gang Dance,
Warsaw,
The Count Five,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Golliwogs,
Cameo,
Scientists,
Whodini,
The Dave Clark Five,
New York Dolls,
Jeff Mills,
Ohio Players,
The Sound,
Scratch Acid,
Y Pants,
Arcadia,
Dawn Penn,
Roxy Music,
Reagan Youth,
Altered Images,
Harmonia,
Patti Smith,
Brass Construction,
Ronan,
CMW,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Darondo,
A Certain Ratio,
June Days,
Bauhaus,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Average White Band,
the Human League,
PIL,
D'Angelo,
The Blues Magoos,
kango's stein massive,
The Monks,
Can,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mo-Dettes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jerry's Kids,
Bobby Sherman,
Severed Heads,
Banda Bassotti,
Monks,
the Swans,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.