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 Uruguay and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the grunge 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Human League,
The Sound,
Aural Exciters,
The Last Poets,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
The Moleskins,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
New York Dolls,
Liliput,
Brothers Johnson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fugs,
Deepchord,
Dual Sessions,
Reagan Youth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erykah Badu,
Youth Brigade,
R.M.O.,
Whodini,
Rekid,
Jimmy McGriff,
Sam Rivers,
Outsiders,
The Pretty Things,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
Livin' Joy,
Vainqueur,
Kerri Chandler,
Judy Mowatt,
The Martian,
The Names,
Babytalk,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Bush Tetras,
The J.B.'s,
Marcia Griffiths,
Half Japanese,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cymande,
The Slackers,
Freddie Wadling,
Terrestrial Tones,
Quando Quango,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Young Rascals,
Saccharine Trust,
Pylon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alphaville,
Skaos,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.