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 Mozambique and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Blossom Toes to the disco 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Youth Brigade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure 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 guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Model 500,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Yazoo,
Buzzcocks,
The Fugs,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Swans,
The Cramps,
The Martian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Names,
Sex Pistols,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grey Daturas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Neil Young,
Negative Approach,
Kas Product,
DNA,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Circle Jerks,
KRS-One,
The Evens,
Lungfish,
OOIOO,
Matthew Bourne,
Goldenarms,
Fugazi,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Japan,
Albert Ayler,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlback,
Subhumans,
Sound Behaviour,
Deadbeat,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
The Invisible,
The Star Department,
James White and The Blacks,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Saints,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Excepter,
Aloha Tigers,
Rekid,
The Blackbyrds,
Vainqueur,
the Germs,
Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw, Warsaw.
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.