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 Grenada and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 June of 44. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultravox record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Fluxion,
Fela Kuti,
The American Breed,
The Toasters,
Stetsasonic,
Patti Smith,
Mr. Review,
Bill Wells,
Excepter,
Cluster,
Pere Ubu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Depeche Mode,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra,
Main Source,
Judy Mowatt,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Colin Newman,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dead C,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Aural Exciters,
Mars,
Jeff Mills,
E-Dancer,
Clear Light,
Iggy Pop,
The Grass Roots,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Dorothy Ashby,
Byron Stingily,
Moby Grape,
Tears for Fears,
Roger Hodgson,
Zero Boys,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Don Cherry,
Country Teasers,
The Index,
The Selecter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Supertramp,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sixth Finger,
The Zeros,
Eve St. Jones,
EPMD,
Flash Fearless,
Jacques Brel,
Lalo Schifrin,
Faraquet,
Alphaville,
Deadbeat,
Whodini,
OOIOO,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson, Yellowson.
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.