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 Ireland and from Manchester.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Lou Reed 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 10cc 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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Supertramp,
10cc,
Animal Collective,
Blancmange,
Sugar Minott,
Monolake,
Theoretical Girls,
K-Klass,
The Star Department,
Minutemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Minny Pops,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ituana,
Glenn Branca,
cv313,
Cal Tjader,
Wasted Youth,
Franke,
Sparks,
The Moleskins,
Oneida,
The Remains,
KRS-One,
Technova,
Stereo Dub,
The Move,
Jacob Miller,
Kerrie Biddell,
Mad Mike,
Scott Walker,
The Wake,
The Durutti Column,
Audionom,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yusef Lateef,
New Age Steppers,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül,
The Fugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Rekid,
Aloha Tigers,
Peter & Gordon,
Intrusion,
The Music Machine,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
Surgeon,
The Shadows of Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Bronski Beat,
Scientists,
Saccharine Trust,
Soft Machine,
Little Man,
Ossler,
Outsiders,
the Germs,
Bush Tetras,
Toni Rubio,
Anakelly,
Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy, Tom Boy.
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.