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 Vanuatu and from Hong Kong.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 K-Klass to the grime 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Das Ding,
Sandy B,
Magazine,
Kurtis Blow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Desert Stars,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kayak,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fad Gadget,
Reagan Youth,
Qualms,
Faust,
E-Dancer,
The Techniques,
Bill Wells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Vladislav Delay,
World's Most,
Yaz,
Bobby Womack,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Association,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Style,
Tres Demented,
Fugazi,
The Doors,
Soul II Soul,
Scion,
Lungfish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Anthony Braxton,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marine Girls,
Mission of Burma,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scratch Acid,
Dead Boys,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Modern Lovers,
Joensuu 1685,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rekid,
Los Fastidios,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Charles Mingus,
Country Teasers,
ABBA,
Depeche Mode,
Mark Hollis,
Clear Light,
Duran Duran,
Skarface,
Piero Umiliani,
Nirvana,
The Barracudas,
Amazonics,
OOIOO,
Public Enemy,
U.S. Maple,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.