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 Indonesia and from London.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Roy Ayers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Con Funk Shun,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television,
The Fall,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Grass Roots,
The Remains,
This Heat,
Camouflage,
Robert Hood,
Reagan Youth,
the Sonics,
Rakim,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pussy Galore,
Soul II Soul,
Tomorrow,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Mad Mike,
The New Christs,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Outsiders,
Blake Baxter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harpers Bizarre,
Faraquet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Procol Harum,
The Moleskins,
Marc Almond,
Man Parrish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
PIL,
Bauhaus,
Liliput,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Blossom Toes,
Public Image Ltd.,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skarface,
R.M.O.,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Sound,
The Barracudas,
Sonic Youth,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
Sight & Sound,
Dark Day,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warsaw,
Donald Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Godley & Creme,
Stockholm Monsters,
Don Cherry,
Patti Smith,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.