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 Belgium and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Johannesburg.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 China Crisis to the dance 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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Bang On A Can,
Freddie Wadling,
The Move,
The Zeros,
The Gories,
Gabor Szabo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Goldenarms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Motorama,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barbara Tucker,
Magazine,
A Certain Ratio,
The Moody Blues,
Jimmy McGriff,
Iggy Pop,
Second Layer,
Newcleus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blake Baxter,
New Age Steppers,
Black Moon,
X-101,
The Black Dice,
a-ha,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Glenn Branca,
T. Rex,
Junior Murvin,
Q and Not U,
Deakin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Boz Scaggs,
Outsiders,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sexual Harrassment,
Wire,
Inner City,
The Pop Group,
The Real Kids,
Marc Almond,
Duran Duran,
Traffic Nightmare,
Los Fastidios,
The Buckinghams,
The Doors,
Ludus,
Bronski Beat,
Dennis Brown,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Average White Band,
Jacob Miller,
Smog,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.