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 Iran and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Invisible 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Sällskapet,
Echospace,
Hardrive,
Bobby Byrd,
The Count Five,
kango's stein massive,
Unwound,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Star Department,
Yazoo,
Neil Young,
June of 44,
Dead Boys,
Joe Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
Vainqueur,
Inner City,
Archie Shepp,
Aaron Thompson,
The Zeros,
Sister Nancy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Todd Rundgren,
John Holt,
John Lydon,
Mandrill,
UT,
Symarip,
Derrick Morgan,
Fluxion,
Lower 48,
The United States of America,
The Techniques,
Franke,
Sugar Minott,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Residents,
PIL,
Suicide,
The Gories,
The Toasters,
Tommy Roe,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Normal,
The Selecter,
Faraquet,
Soulsonic Force,
Fear,
Barrington Levy,
Moebius,
Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Lee Hazlewood,
In Retrospect,
Yellowson,
T. Rex,
Matthew Bourne,
Visage,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.