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 Ethiopia and from Taipei.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Monochrome Set to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Max Romeo,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Electric Prunes,
Ponytail,
The Leaves,
Yazoo,
The Fuzztones,
The Mojo Men,
The Stooges,
Barry Ungar,
Quantec,
The Motions,
Wolf Eyes,
Subhumans,
Terry Callier,
The Golliwogs,
Johnny Clarke,
The Blues Magoos,
Jimmy McGriff,
Robert Hood,
Bronski Beat,
the Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
Lou Christie,
ABC,
Y Pants,
Procol Harum,
Arab on Radar,
Zapp,
Suicide,
The Gladiators,
Michelle Simonal,
Ice-T,
ABBA,
Pussy Galore,
Von Mondo,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
Mars,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Peter & Gordon,
The Durutti Column,
The Smoke,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Jeff Lynne,
The Red Krayola,
Byron Stingily,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Reagan Youth,
cv313,
DJ Style,
Alphaville,
Rufus Thomas,
John Cale,
Ohio Players,
Gang of Four,
Soulsonic Force,
Technova,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim, Eric B and Rakim.
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.