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 Denmark and from Tokyo.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
The Raincoats,
Judy Mowatt,
Vainqueur,
Leonard Cohen,
Agitation Free,
T.S.O.L.,
Cameo,
Lalann,
Arthur Verocai,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Christie,
Janne Schatter,
Todd Rundgren,
Fad Gadget,
D'Angelo,
Soft Machine,
The Martian,
Chris & Cosey,
Sam Rivers,
AZ,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sister Nancy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
CMW,
The Standells,
The Saints,
Bluetip,
Model 500,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeff Mills,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultravox,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Minny Pops,
Franke,
Junior Murvin,
June Days,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Prince Buster,
Symarip,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Zeros,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
Agent Orange,
New York Dolls,
Supertramp,
Lee Hazlewood,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Crash Course in Science,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Hood,
Steve Hackett,
the Germs,
Joyce Sims,
Young Marble Giants,
Japan,
John Lydon,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.