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 Madagascar and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Theoretical Girls to the electroclash 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Cymande tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
Liliput,
Danielle Patucci,
the Association,
Livin' Joy,
Can,
China Crisis,
New Order,
The Associates,
Brick,
The Gladiators,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Niagra,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Five Americans,
Yellowson,
X-Ray Spex,
Mark Hollis,
Faust,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gun Club,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Human League,
Eden Ahbez,
Roy Ayers,
The Modern Lovers,
Warsaw,
Soulsonic Force,
DNA,
The Red Krayola,
Yaz,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
a-ha,
The Smiths,
Rotary Connection,
The Remains,
Bill Near,
Fat Boys,
Soft Machine,
Au Pairs,
Y Pants,
Quando Quango,
The Durutti Column,
Thompson Twins,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Accadde A,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Lydon,
Anthony Braxton,
Outsiders,
Inner City,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Nick Fraelich,
The Golliwogs,
Ronan,
La Düsseldorf,
Crooked Eye,
Young Marble Giants,
Dead Boys,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.