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 Turkey and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rapeman to the techno 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Faraquet,
Cameo,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sällskapet,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
DJ Style,
Oneida,
Average White Band,
Camouflage,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Black Pus,
Zapp,
A Certain Ratio,
Erasure,
The Slackers,
Qualms,
Talk Talk,
Brick,
The Wake,
kango's stein massive,
Monks,
Grauzone,
X-Ray Spex,
Toni Rubio,
the Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alphaville,
Country Teasers,
Alice Coltrane,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Gabor Szabo,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tom Boy,
Soul II Soul,
David Bowie,
CMW,
Inner City,
Derrick May,
Lucky Dragons,
The Martian,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dead Boys,
Popol Vuh,
Organ,
Sex Pistols,
Patti Smith,
Con Funk Shun,
John Lydon,
The Busters,
Bluetip,
Second Layer,
Bobby Byrd,
Half Japanese,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.