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 Azerbaijan 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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blossom Toes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Slave,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Erykah Badu,
Swell Maps,
Dave Gahan,
Dark Day,
Supertramp,
Sandy B,
The Doors,
Severed Heads,
Fear,
The Cure,
The Red Krayola,
Josef K,
The Smoke,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brothers Johnson,
Ultra Naté,
New Age Steppers,
kango's stein massive,
John Foxx,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gories,
Metal Thangz,
Jacques Brel,
The Buckinghams,
The Detroit Cobras,
Guru Guru,
Electric Prunes,
Peter & Gordon,
Lindisfarne,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Bowie,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Idris Muhammad,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fluxion,
PIL,
Country Teasers,
Joyce Sims,
Ronan,
Joey Negro,
These Immortal Souls,
Roger Hodgson,
The United States of America,
The Star Department,
Charles Mingus,
Mr. Review,
Eric Copeland,
The Blackbyrds,
Letta Mbulu,
Can,
Fat Boys,
48th St. Collective,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Crispian St. Peters,
A Certain Ratio,
Gang Starr,
Inner City,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.