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 Tunisia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe 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 Underground Resistance to the punk 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Inner City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Techniques,
Banda Bassotti,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brand Nubian,
Jesper Dahlback,
cv313,
The American Breed,
Pylon,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
KRS-One,
Q and Not U,
the Slits,
Don Cherry,
Godley & Creme,
Boredoms,
Mad Mike,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Velvet Underground,
Moby Grape,
Funky Four + One,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Zero Boys,
Harry Pussy,
China Crisis,
Cameo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rufus Thomas,
the Swans,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Byrd,
Kurtis Blow,
Wire,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faraquet,
Iggy Pop,
Trumans Water,
Swell Maps,
Fugazi,
The Young Rascals,
Ultra Naté,
Byron Stingily,
Flamin' Groovies,
Idris Muhammad,
John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Intrusion,
Skriet,
Joyce Sims,
Gerry Rafferty,
L. Decosne,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dead C,
Masters at Work,
Grey Daturas,
Robert Görl,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.