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 Netherlands and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 theremin 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rap 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Sarah Menescal,
Chrome,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Juan Atkins,
Wally Richardson,
Trumans Water,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Zapp,
Nick Fraelich,
Kerri Chandler,
Janne Schatter,
The Misunderstood,
Nik Kershaw,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Blackbyrds,
New Order,
Mary Jane Girls,
Severed Heads,
The Smiths,
Procol Harum,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Junior Murvin,
The Offenders,
Brass Construction,
Desert Stars,
Oblivians,
Silicon Teens,
Mark Hollis,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Agent Orange,
Qualms,
Gang Green,
Gil Scott Heron,
Infiniti,
Girls At Our Best!,
Schoolly D,
H. Thieme,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Young Rascals,
Faust,
Sugar Minott,
The Cramps,
Glenn Branca,
The Pop Group,
Funkadelic,
Amazonics,
FM Einheit,
Isaac Hayes,
Sixth Finger,
DJ Style,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül II,
Circle Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arthur Verocai,
The Residents,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.