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 Italy and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Interpol to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jandek record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars 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?
The Modern Lovers,
The Techniques,
Jeff Lynne,
Siglo XX,
Ronnie Foster,
Buzzcocks,
Pole,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra,
Erykah Badu,
The Dead C,
The Pretty Things,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sixth Finger,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camberwell Now,
Ornette Coleman,
Warsaw,
Lyres,
Little Man,
Mark Hollis,
Slave,
cv313,
The Fortunes,
The Red Krayola,
Rapeman,
the Normal,
Sarah Menescal,
Index,
Girls At Our Best!,
Franke,
Anakelly,
The Remains,
the Slits,
Jerry's Kids,
Basic Channel,
Fela Kuti,
Essential Logic,
Robert Hood,
David Bowie,
Barrington Levy,
James White and The Blacks,
X-101,
The Selecter,
kango's stein massive,
Brick,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Youth Brigade,
Trumans Water,
The Standells,
Lee Hazlewood,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lou Reed,
Juan Atkins,
Chris & Cosey,
Hasil Adkins,
The Angels of Light,
Fat Boys,
Main Source,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.