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 Pakistan and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Martian 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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Erykah Badu,
Erasure,
The Cowsills,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terrestrial Tones,
Nation of Ulysses,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dave Gahan,
Aaron Thompson,
The Pretty Things,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rosa Yemen,
Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
The Red Krayola,
China Crisis,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
Infiniti,
The Grass Roots,
Pere Ubu,
Barry Ungar,
Motorama,
Gichy Dan,
The Walker Brothers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gang Starr,
The Leaves,
The Busters,
Mo-Dettes,
the Normal,
One Last Wish,
Alphaville,
Eric Dolphy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Accadde A,
Pole,
Bronski Beat,
Yellowson,
Sam Rivers,
the Bar-Kays,
Jandek,
Bob Dylan,
Arcadia,
B.T. Express,
Masters at Work,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
The Mummies,
Los Fastidios,
Fad Gadget,
Animal Collective,
Icehouse,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.