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 China and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Heaven 17 to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Das Ding record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thompson Twins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
48th St. Collective,
Kaleidoscope,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Invisible,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Easy Going,
Hoover,
The Kinks,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Grass Roots,
K-Klass,
Suburban Knight,
The Red Krayola,
Brass Construction,
Porter Ricks,
David Axelrod,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quadrant,
10cc,
Rekid,
Eddi Front,
Mars,
Lindisfarne,
Bluetip,
Radiohead,
Johnny Osbourne,
Tim Buckley,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nick Fraelich,
Susan Cadogan,
Blake Baxter,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cowsills,
The Knickerbockers,
The Litter,
Ten City,
Alphaville,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lightning Bolt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Archie Shepp,
Tears for Fears,
The Real Kids,
One Last Wish,
Deadbeat,
Mad Mike,
Albert Ayler,
The Golliwogs,
Deepchord,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
PIL,
The Fugs,
Excepter,
Josef K,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.