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 Kazakhstan and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Slave to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Man Parrish,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
Gabor Szabo,
The Skatalites,
Bobby Byrd,
Vainqueur,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Offenders,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Spandau Ballet,
Cameo,
Arab on Radar,
Steve Hackett,
The Fall,
Roxette,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dave Gahan,
The Residents,
Joyce Sims,
The Birthday Party,
Juan Atkins,
R.M.O.,
K-Klass,
Warren Ellis,
The Busters,
T.S.O.L.,
The Divine Comedy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
The Raincoats,
Yaz,
Sound Behaviour,
Lightning Bolt,
The Smoke,
Index,
DJ Sneak,
Joe Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
Monolake,
Barclay James Harvest,
Wasted Youth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Brick,
Make Up,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
Parry Music,
Junior Murvin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bad Manners,
Quantec,
Isaac Hayes,
Supertramp,
Shoche,
Skarface,
Altered Images,
Kaleidoscope,
The Saints,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.