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 Mexico and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Mary Jane Girls to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Ludus,
Fluxion,
Boz Scaggs,
Porter Ricks,
Desert Stars,
Loose Ends,
Glenn Branca,
Adolescents,
Flamin' Groovies,
Procol Harum,
Jacques Brel,
Royal Trux,
B.T. Express,
The Black Dice,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Invisible,
The Motions,
10cc,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gladiators,
Rod Modell,
Minor Threat,
Aswad,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Liliput,
Joy Division,
Goldenarms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Audionom,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sparks,
Robert Görl,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Anakelly,
FM Einheit,
The Vogues,
Junior Murvin,
Tubeway Army,
The Fuzztones,
the Sonics,
Monks,
James White and The Blacks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lower 48,
Franke,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gap Band,
Ponytail,
Jeff Mills,
Pantytec,
Bobby Womack,
Scion,
the Swans,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.