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 North and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Fania All-Stars to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fear. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
The Smoke,
Inner City,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
Dennis Brown,
Saccharine Trust,
Tom Boy,
Mission of Burma,
Carl Craig,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sex Pistols,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Blancmange,
Soulsonic Force,
Spandau Ballet,
Quando Quango,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mo-Dettes,
Blossom Toes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
Peter and Kerry,
The Blues Magoos,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Associates,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Model 500,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Saints,
Simply Red,
Gang Starr,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Swans,
Ludus,
Silicon Teens,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sam Rivers,
Masters at Work,
Sound Behaviour,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tim Buckley,
Shoche,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Chris & Cosey,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jerry's Kids,
the Fania All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
Underground Resistance,
Maleditus Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jeff Lynne,
Colin Newman,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.