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 Brazil and from Salvador.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Selecter,
Connie Case,
Television Personalities,
Brand Nubian,
Clear Light,
Robert Hood,
Cheater Slicks,
Dawn Penn,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wolf Eyes,
Barbara Tucker,
Al Stewart,
ABBA,
Zero Boys,
Sun Ra,
Graham Central Station,
Trumans Water,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Moon,
World's Most,
Ralphi Rosario,
Eden Ahbez,
LL Cool J,
Rod Modell,
The Kinks,
Bill Wells,
Grey Daturas,
The United States of America,
Donald Byrd,
Angry Samoans,
New Order,
Jacob Miller,
Morten Harket,
Blossom Toes,
Quantec,
Monolake,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Soft Cell,
E-Dancer,
Public Enemy,
Tim Buckley,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Human League,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moby Grape,
Chrome,
KRS-One,
Brothers Johnson,
The Searchers,
Porter Ricks,
Hardrive,
L. Decosne,
Terrestrial Tones,
Letta Mbulu,
Fela Kuti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Talk Talk,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.