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 Mauritius and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Isaac Hayes,
Sister Nancy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Warsaw,
The Cowsills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Colin Newman,
X-Ray Spex,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funky Four + One,
The Knickerbockers,
Audionom,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blackbyrds,
the Bar-Kays,
Mary Jane Girls,
Deadbeat,
Pantaleimon,
Derrick May,
Stockholm Monsters,
Von Mondo,
Absolute Body Control,
Sarah Menescal,
Soft Cell,
Sparks,
Flipper,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lindisfarne,
One Last Wish,
Eurythmics,
Infiniti,
Dark Day,
Eric Copeland,
Black Pus,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Flamin' Groovies,
Organ,
Siglo XX,
Pere Ubu,
Liliput,
Al Stewart,
Popol Vuh,
The Martian,
Magazine,
Crispian St. Peters,
Television Personalities,
The Grass Roots,
Deakin,
The Remains,
the Germs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Supertramp,
The Durutti Column,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.