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 Nauru and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Mad Mike to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stetsasonic,
Idris Muhammad,
Shuggie Otis,
Tomorrow,
Charles Mingus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Country Teasers,
The Trojans,
Cluster,
The Motions,
Swans,
The Gap Band,
Technova,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Litter,
David Axelrod,
Johnny Clarke,
X-101,
F. McDonald,
The Offenders,
Talk Talk,
Ituana,
CMW,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Lakeside,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nils Olav,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Fortunes,
Sight & Sound,
Lebanon Hanover,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Evens,
Magazine,
Rites of Spring,
Surgeon,
The Leaves,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxette,
Eve St. Jones,
Television,
Amon Düül,
Jeff Mills,
FM Einheit,
Black Bananas,
The Knickerbockers,
Byron Stingily,
Bizarre Inc.,
Prince Buster,
Chrome,
Lindisfarne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David McCallum,
Spandau Ballet,
June of 44,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
The Human League,
Morten Harket,
Marvin Gaye,
Warren Ellis,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.