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 Brunei and from Houston.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Ultimate Spinach to the techno 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dark Day 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ituana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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 Mojo Men,
Rekid,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Banda Bassotti,
Prince Buster,
The Red Krayola,
Brass Construction,
Scion,
Flipper,
James White and The Blacks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
AZ,
Simply Red,
Bootsy Collins,
Lucky Dragons,
Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Tom Boy,
Reagan Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camouflage,
Hardrive,
Ornette Coleman,
Talk Talk,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Stooges,
Ronnie Foster,
Panda Bear,
Tres Demented,
Black Bananas,
Newcleus,
Nico,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Lynne,
The Angels of Light,
Gastr Del Sol,
Public Image Ltd.,
Negative Approach,
Excepter,
Mars,
LL Cool J,
Porter Ricks,
Dead Boys,
The Last Poets,
Bang On A Can,
The Fortunes,
Cameo,
Hoover,
Lalo Schifrin,
Supertramp,
Judy Mowatt,
Slick Rick,
Easy Going,
Das Ding,
These Immortal Souls,
The Fall,
The Dead C,
The Fire Engines,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eurythmics,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.