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 Ukraine and from Halifax.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 synthesizer 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 F. McDonald to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Byron Stingily,
Infiniti,
Johnny Osbourne,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eric B and Rakim,
Judy Mowatt,
The Smoke,
The Techniques,
Gang of Four,
F. McDonald,
David Bowie,
Sam Rivers,
Warren Ellis,
The Saints,
Marine Girls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Tommy Roe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Suburban Knight,
The Doors,
Colin Newman,
Soul Sonic Force,
Television Personalities,
Technova,
Sound Behaviour,
Jeff Mills,
The Cramps,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Slits,
ABC,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aswad,
Los Fastidios,
The United States of America,
Theoretical Girls,
Robert Görl,
Masters at Work,
Metal Thangz,
Pet Shop Boys,
World's Most,
Depeche Mode,
Zero Boys,
Inner City,
Barbara Tucker,
Pole,
June of 44,
Rotary Connection,
Lower 48,
Accadde A,
Erasure,
Toni Rubio,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
The Gap Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.