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 Australia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boredoms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
Wings,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeru the Damaja,
Babytalk,
Swans,
the Normal,
Todd Rundgren,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fatback Band,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Altered Images,
Joe Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
Icehouse,
The Fuzztones,
Rufus Thomas,
Little Man,
Ultimate Spinach,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fear,
Spandau Ballet,
Lindisfarne,
The Vogues,
The Star Department,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deadbeat,
Niagra,
Joe Finger,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Fortunes,
D'Angelo,
These Immortal Souls,
Max Romeo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cluster,
Hoover,
Nation of Ulysses,
Stereo Dub,
Surgeon,
Quantec,
Public Image Ltd.,
kango's stein massive,
Donny Hathaway,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Görl,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Arab on Radar,
Y Pants,
Zapp,
Dual Sessions,
Scan 7,
Sandy B,
Anakelly,
Kas Product,
Half Japanese,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.