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 Ecuador and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Radio Birdman to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Gories tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Sonics,
Blancmange,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deakin,
Youth Brigade,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Womack,
The Raincoats,
Letta Mbulu,
Al Stewart,
Infiniti,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Copeland,
Sister Nancy,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Jimmy McGriff,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
48th St. Collective,
Warsaw,
Tim Buckley,
Faraquet,
Ossler,
Crash Course in Science,
The Searchers,
Liliput,
Scan 7,
David McCallum,
The New Christs,
Lyres,
The Saints,
Tres Demented,
D'Angelo,
Banda Bassotti,
Black Flag,
Stetsasonic,
Surgeon,
Cheater Slicks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ken Boothe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Whodini,
Circle Jerks,
The Associates,
Harpers Bizarre,
Los Fastidios,
Idris Muhammad,
Desert Stars,
Eden Ahbez,
Avey Tare,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gong,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.