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 Papua New Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Duran Duran to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Scott Walker,
Terry Callier,
Lee Hazlewood,
FM Einheit,
China Crisis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
Graham Central Station,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roxette,
Agitation Free,
Lungfish,
Bobby Womack,
The Angels of Light,
Zero Boys,
Gichy Dan,
Faust,
Juan Atkins,
The Barracudas,
Hasil Adkins,
The Cure,
Babytalk,
Ten City,
John Lydon,
Tres Demented,
Donny Hathaway,
Harry Pussy,
Interpol,
Nico,
This Heat,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Grauzone,
Sällskapet,
Massinfluence,
Johnny Clarke,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Human League,
Organ,
Audionom,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeff Lynne,
Liliput,
Livin' Joy,
Das Ding,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Gang Dance,
World's Most,
Model 500,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Make Up,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Neon Judgement,
Connie Case,
Funky Four + One,
Sister Nancy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pere Ubu,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gun Club,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.