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 Slovakia and from Houston.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Glasgow.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Soulsonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
Porter Ricks,
Agitation Free,
Ten City,
Eurythmics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mars,
MDC,
Oblivians,
Dennis Brown,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Leaves,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Birthday Party,
Arab on Radar,
T.S.O.L.,
Infiniti,
PIL,
Fat Boys,
Scott Walker,
The Smoke,
Donny Hathaway,
Glenn Branca,
Buzzcocks,
CMW,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lungfish,
Deadbeat,
Lightning Bolt,
Tom Boy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Average White Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Soft Cell,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
The Young Rascals,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
the Sonics,
Jandek,
New York Dolls,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tubeway Army,
Nils Olav,
The Last Poets,
Lou Reed,
The Golliwogs,
Accadde A,
Alice Coltrane,
Maurizio,
Tres Demented,
The Durutti Column,
Soft Machine,
Silicon Teens,
Oneida,
The Real Kids,
Quadrant,
John Lydon,
Carl Craig,
Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May, Derrick May.
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.