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 Ivory Coast and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the electroclash 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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Siglo XX,
Quando Quango,
Ultravox,
Mr. Review,
Liliput,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nik Kershaw,
Sugar Minott,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Grass Roots,
Mo-Dettes,
Ludus,
The Leaves,
Yellowson,
Stiv Bators,
The Motions,
Mark Hollis,
The Five Americans,
Pulsallama,
Visage,
The Electric Prunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Certain Ratio,
Technova,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
The Victims,
Schoolly D,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scrapy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sparks,
The Index,
Lower 48,
a-ha,
Second Layer,
Minor Threat,
Warren Ellis,
Wire,
Amon Düül II,
Faust,
Brand Nubian,
Black Moon,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
Average White Band,
cv313,
X-102,
Shuggie Otis,
The Last Poets,
the Normal,
Bluetip,
PIL,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Seeds,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Halsall,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.