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 Eritrea and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 oboe 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 Godley & Creme to the electroclash 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobby Byrd,
Brothers Johnson,
Symarip,
Freddie Wadling,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Barbara Tucker,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Human League,
Absolute Body Control,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare,
Section 25,
Young Marble Giants,
Nation of Ulysses,
David Axelrod,
Sun City Girls,
David McCallum,
Tres Demented,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
The Gun Club,
Pussy Galore,
The Durutti Column,
The Busters,
The Young Rascals,
Eric Dolphy,
Sugar Minott,
R.M.O.,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sex Pistols,
Hashim,
Can,
Cymande,
Danielle Patucci,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Sherman,
The Saints,
Yaz,
Suicide,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Amon Düül,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Standells,
Urselle,
Man Parrish,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Green,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gang of Four,
The United States of America,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.