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 Estonia and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 Gerry Rafferty to the jazz 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Black Moon,
The Blues Magoos,
Ituana,
Easy Going,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
LL Cool J,
Davy DMX,
E-Dancer,
Hot Snakes,
The Slits,
Symarip,
Livin' Joy,
John Holt,
World's Most,
Laurel Aitken,
Jacques Brel,
Rotary Connection,
the Swans,
Hardrive,
One Last Wish,
Fugazi,
The Martian,
Glenn Branca,
Bronski Beat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jandek,
Amazonics,
kango's stein massive,
Eurythmics,
Altered Images,
K-Klass,
The Fire Engines,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bill Wells,
Joey Negro,
Vladislav Delay,
Throbbing Gristle,
Howard Jones,
Bobby Byrd,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn,
The Cure,
AZ,
Monolake,
The Modern Lovers,
Bootsy Collins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
OOIOO,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Offenders,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Residents,
Robert Görl,
Fat Boys,
Joe Finger,
Sun City Girls,
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.