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 Solomon Islands and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe 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 Hot Snakes to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glambeats Corp. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Crash Course in Science,
Mission of Burma,
Rapeman,
The Fortunes,
Public Enemy,
John Lydon,
Pagans,
Stiv Bators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Smog,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Von Mondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
Agitation Free,
Sexual Harrassment,
Tropical Tobacco,
Henry Cow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Steve Hackett,
Laurel Aitken,
The Barracudas,
L. Decosne,
The Associates,
Rakim,
Warsaw,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
T.S.O.L.,
Motorama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Martian,
Pet Shop Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Crooked Eye,
Heaven 17,
Loose Ends,
Desert Stars,
Ossler,
Piero Umiliani,
Girls At Our Best!,
China Crisis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Monks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ludus,
Isaac Hayes,
Gang Starr,
the Fania All-Stars,
Godley & Creme,
Ultravox,
Yaz,
Oblivians,
The Index,
a-ha,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
One Last Wish,
Eurythmics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kayak,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.