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 Nicaragua and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cosmic Jokers to the crunk 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 Parry Music. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ornette Coleman,
Pere Ubu,
Sex Pistols,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
Harry Pussy,
Gong,
Severed Heads,
Q65,
Roxette,
The Fuzztones,
Grandmaster Flash,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Main Source,
Mandrill,
John Foxx,
Letta Mbulu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Junior Murvin,
Scott Walker,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun Ra,
Carl Craig,
Black Pus,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed,
Gang Starr,
Minutemen,
Drexciya,
The Cure,
Faust,
Scion,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Barracudas,
Whodini,
The Walker Brothers,
The Martian,
This Heat,
Blake Baxter,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Green,
Symarip,
Siglo XX,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bush Tetras,
Matthew Bourne,
Fluxion,
The Neon Judgement,
Half Japanese,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
Steve Hackett,
Max Romeo,
Royal Trux,
L. Decosne,
Sixth Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
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.