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 Suriname and from Mumbai.
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 London and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 mellotron 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 Colin Newman 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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris & Cosey,
Saccharine Trust,
Donny Hathaway,
The Trojans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Pulsallama,
Funkadelic,
Kool Moe Dee,
X-Ray Spex,
Basic Channel,
Vainqueur,
Aural Exciters,
Eve St. Jones,
Von Mondo,
Rites of Spring,
Pantaleimon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Andrew Hill,
Colin Newman,
Pole,
the Sonics,
Roxy Music,
DJ Sneak,
Can,
Eddi Front,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barrington Levy,
The Blues Magoos,
Amon Düül II,
Soul II Soul,
Depeche Mode,
The Index,
Zapp,
Simply Red,
Byron Stingily,
Icehouse,
Tropical Tobacco,
Max Romeo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roy Ayers,
Monks,
Excepter,
Jacques Brel,
Fela Kuti,
FM Einheit,
The Grass Roots,
Interpol,
Brick,
The Last Poets,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Lynne,
The Litter,
MC5,
Janne Schatter,
Erasure,
Gil Scott Heron,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.