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 Argentina and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Ultravox to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Patti Smith,
Rod Modell,
The Birthday Party,
Donny Hathaway,
Zapp,
Lindisfarne,
Kerri Chandler,
Q and Not U,
The Grass Roots,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Womack,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Deadbeat,
The Searchers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
In Retrospect,
Kayak,
Bill Wells,
Oneida,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Josef K,
R.M.O.,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Roger Hodgson,
Danielle Patucci,
The Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kaleidoscope,
Eve St. Jones,
Rapeman,
The Kinks,
Todd Terry,
X-102,
Tres Demented,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
Mo-Dettes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Can,
Donald Byrd,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ash Ra Tempel,
OOIOO,
Stiv Bators,
Y Pants,
The Golliwogs,
Susan Cadogan,
Brick,
Trumans Water,
Ronan,
Dawn Penn,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Tremeloes,
Nas,
Morten Harket,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.