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 Korea South and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 guitar 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 The Barracudas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fortunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
Half Japanese,
The Move,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fear,
Warren Ellis,
Model 500,
Monks,
Silicon Teens,
Letta Mbulu,
The Fire Engines,
Radiohead,
Bobby Byrd,
Fatback Band,
Marmalade,
Pussy Galore,
Nation of Ulysses,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Zero Boys,
Dead Boys,
Electric Prunes,
Brass Construction,
Minny Pops,
Dark Day,
Brand Nubian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Metal Thangz,
Pylon,
Dave Gahan,
The Real Kids,
Thompson Twins,
Yusef Lateef,
The Stooges,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scratch Acid,
LL Cool J,
Icehouse,
Blancmange,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hardrive,
UT,
the Germs,
Audionom,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
Scott Walker,
Marc Almond,
Peter and Kerry,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Clear Light,
The Slits,
The Star Department,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Motorama,
Pagans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Mary Jane Girls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Names,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lee Hazlewood,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.