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 Lebanon 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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Wake to the grime 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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Silicon Teens 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio 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?
A Certain Ratio,
Scrapy,
Pantytec,
Jacques Brel,
Black Sheep,
Funky Four + One,
Byron Stingily,
Yazoo,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Robert Hood,
Wasted Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Count Five,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pharoah Sanders,
Alphaville,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Laurel Aitken,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
The Tremeloes,
Iggy Pop,
Al Stewart,
Jeff Lynne,
Erasure,
The Durutti Column,
Chrome,
Model 500,
Pet Shop Boys,
Heaven 17,
Hardrive,
Mary Jane Girls,
Y Pants,
X-102,
10cc,
The Seeds,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Index,
Arab on Radar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
Con Funk Shun,
John Foxx,
X-101,
The Stooges,
Mars,
Black Pus,
Danielle Patucci,
Schoolly D,
Pussy Galore,
Babytalk,
Masters at Work,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tubeway Army,
Infiniti,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
Parry Music,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.