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 Syria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Susan Cadogan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joe Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Warsaw,
The Vogues,
Cymande,
Alison Limerick,
Black Pus,
Mark Hollis,
Boz Scaggs,
Eric B and Rakim,
Patti Smith,
the Slits,
Tubeway Army,
Blancmange,
Half Japanese,
The Dave Clark Five,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Association,
The Count Five,
Eddi Front,
Roxette,
Drexciya,
Dennis Brown,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
In Retrospect,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
Lungfish,
Blake Baxter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
The Beau Brummels,
Chris Corsano,
Index,
Chris & Cosey,
The Real Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
Echospace,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
Sex Pistols,
Oneida,
Alphaville,
Eden Ahbez,
Kevin Saunderson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Byron Stingily,
The Cowsills,
Lower 48,
Dark Day,
Neil Young,
New Age Steppers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
La Düsseldorf,
Rhythm & Sound,
Junior Murvin,
Loose Ends,
The Residents,
Saccharine Trust,
Alice Coltrane,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.