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 Libya and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 sitar 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 Residents to the punk 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Y Pants,
Drexciya,
Aaron Thompson,
Alton Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
World's Most,
The Sonics,
Suicide,
Maurizio,
Popol Vuh,
Surgeon,
Glambeats Corp.,
R.M.O.,
Bronski Beat,
Tubeway Army,
The Seeds,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
DJ Sneak,
Darondo,
Patti Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Hashim,
The Toasters,
Ice-T,
Nas,
a-ha,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Offenders,
Can,
Big Daddy Kane,
Judy Mowatt,
Susan Cadogan,
Section 25,
Yaz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Guru Guru,
Average White Band,
Eve St. Jones,
the Soft Cell,
Bluetip,
La Düsseldorf,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Modern Lovers,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fugs,
This Heat,
Bad Manners,
Silicon Teens,
Chris Corsano,
Massinfluence,
Blake Baxter,
Easy Going,
Soft Cell,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.