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 Comoros and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Angels of Light to the funk 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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
KRS-One,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Swans,
The Slits,
Monolake,
Peter and Kerry,
Sun Ra,
Absolute Body Control,
Steve Hackett,
Sight & Sound,
Scientists,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sällskapet,
Neu!,
Wally Richardson,
Tropical Tobacco,
One Last Wish,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Anakelly,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Move,
Boredoms,
Sandy B,
Crime,
Niagra,
The Cure,
Gang of Four,
Iggy Pop,
48th St. Collective,
Grey Daturas,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
The Beau Brummels,
Adolescents,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gerry Rafferty,
a-ha,
Avey Tare,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Circle Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Delta 5,
H. Thieme,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
Unwound,
Sex Pistols,
Franke,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Crash Course in Science,
Arthur Verocai,
Eric Dolphy,
Average White Band,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Soft Cell,
Wings,
The Standells,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.