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 Tonga and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Arcadia to the techno 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kenny Larkin,
Roger Hodgson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Toni Rubio,
Theoretical Girls,
Kayak,
Black Moon,
Television,
Radio Birdman,
Sex Pistols,
The Names,
Lou Reed,
The Raincoats,
Urselle,
Loose Ends,
Sällskapet,
Scion,
Goldenarms,
Cameo,
Soft Machine,
Con Funk Shun,
The Stooges,
Brand Nubian,
Main Source,
Fad Gadget,
World's Most,
The Blues Magoos,
Eve St. Jones,
Althea and Donna,
The Divine Comedy,
Parry Music,
Whodini,
Minutemen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Residents,
The Birthday Party,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nico,
Warsaw,
Gerry Rafferty,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wire,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crime,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Starr,
Charles Mingus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Offenders,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Red Krayola,
The Moody Blues,
Eddi Front,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.