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 Palau and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Minnie Riperton to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
Altered Images,
Quadrant,
Morten Harket,
D'Angelo,
The Red Krayola,
Cameo,
The Black Dice,
Jerry's Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Liliput,
Half Japanese,
The Neon Judgement,
Camouflage,
Agitation Free,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Livin' Joy,
Fela Kuti,
Alison Limerick,
Fugazi,
AZ,
Ludus,
Eden Ahbez,
Kas Product,
the Slits,
The Skatalites,
Joe Finger,
Gang of Four,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brick,
OOIOO,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
David Axelrod,
LL Cool J,
Interpol,
Clear Light,
48th St. Collective,
Fluxion,
Faust,
Magazine,
Juan Atkins,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dave Clark Five,
Magma,
Lucky Dragons,
Lee Hazlewood,
Donald Byrd,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reuben Wilson,
Soul II Soul,
Deadbeat,
Rakim,
Fatback Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rapeman,
Unrelated Segments,
Nirvana,
The Birthday Party,
the Swans,
Tom Boy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rod Modell,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.