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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba 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 Vladislav Delay to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Gabor Szabo,
Dawn Penn,
Moebius,
Fela Kuti,
The Young Rascals,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Human League,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus,
The Gories,
The Doobie Brothers,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Byrd,
Malaria!,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Kinks,
Swans,
Freddie Wadling,
Amazonics,
B.T. Express,
Sonny Sharrock,
Neu!,
Brand Nubian,
Subhumans,
The Smoke,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
The Trojans,
Scan 7,
Eddi Front,
Cecil Taylor,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
E-Dancer,
Quadrant,
Nik Kershaw,
Metal Thangz,
the Swans,
Stiv Bators,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jandek,
Agitation Free,
The Cure,
Electric Prunes,
Smog,
Funkadelic,
Joyce Sims,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
Carl Craig,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
Hasil Adkins,
Erasure,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Section 25,
Deepchord,
Magazine,
Parry Music,
the Sonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.