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 Turkmenistan and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Crooked Eye to the grunge 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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Can tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warsaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Tres Demented,
OOIOO,
Freddie Wadling,
The Saints,
Visage,
Bootsy Collins,
Alton Ellis,
Rakim,
Black Sheep,
The Mummies,
Marcia Griffiths,
Althea and Donna,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dead Boys,
The Move,
The Litter,
The Moody Blues,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Invisible,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blancmange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
The Searchers,
Rapeman,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Niagra,
Smog,
Chrome,
The Standells,
Vainqueur,
The Alarm Clocks,
Clear Light,
the Slits,
Warren Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
Bob Dylan,
Skaos,
Sex Pistols,
Roy Ayers,
Connie Case,
Absolute Body Control,
Prince Buster,
Mo-Dettes,
Barry Ungar,
Kurtis Blow,
John Foxx,
Yazoo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Organ,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scrapy,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.