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 Romania and from Copenhagen.
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 New York and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb 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 Nik Kershaw 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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Donny Hathaway,
Lyres,
Throbbing Gristle,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Seeds,
Kerri Chandler,
Whodini,
Bill Near,
The Gories,
Subhumans,
Soulsonic Force,
The Selecter,
Blossom Toes,
Arcadia,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
Angry Samoans,
Dave Gahan,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Durutti Column,
The Techniques,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chrome,
Letta Mbulu,
Tubeway Army,
Flipper,
Howard Jones,
Lower 48,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
LL Cool J,
Byron Stingily,
Jeff Mills,
Pierre Henry,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sound,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
Sex Pistols,
The Martian,
Alphaville,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
Warsaw,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bobby Sherman,
Outsiders,
Sun Ra,
Jacques Brel,
Boredoms,
Loose Ends,
Ten City,
Sun City Girls,
X-Ray Spex,
Shoche,
The Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül II,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monolake,
Pantytec,
Quadrant,
Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive, Kango’s Stein Massive.
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.