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 Kosovo and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Beau Brummels to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group 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?
Fear,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Litter,
Lou Christie,
Suicide,
Bobby Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Iggy Pop,
Wasted Youth,
Rufus Thomas,
B.T. Express,
Surgeon,
Fela Kuti,
Magazine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Accadde A,
Letta Mbulu,
Radiohead,
Mars,
Minutemen,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pole,
Public Enemy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Index,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Maleditus Sound,
Infiniti,
Ronan,
The Velvet Underground,
The Move,
Hardrive,
The Neon Judgement,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Toasters,
Rhythm & Sound,
Skriet,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang On A Can,
R.M.O.,
MDC,
Rod Modell,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Duran Duran,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Slits,
Au Pairs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Outsiders,
The Selecter,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Loose Ends,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.