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 Costa Rica and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 The Fall to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Anthony Braxton,
Sixth Finger,
Roxy Music,
The Red Krayola,
Funkadelic,
Wings,
Joey Negro,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Deadbeat,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vainqueur,
The Martian,
Kurtis Blow,
Gastr Del Sol,
Arcadia,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Gap Band,
Talk Talk,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fortunes,
Marmalade,
Can,
Skaos,
Loose Ends,
Reuben Wilson,
Glenn Branca,
Angry Samoans,
The Pretty Things,
The Leaves,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nik Kershaw,
Pierre Henry,
The Stooges,
Dennis Brown,
D'Angelo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mr. Review,
Television,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
Excepter,
Kayak,
Siglo XX,
Main Source,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Josef K,
Supertramp,
the Slits,
Boz Scaggs,
B.T. Express,
Young Marble Giants,
Boredoms,
Slick Rick,
The Index,
The Techniques,
Cecil Taylor,
Monolake,
Reagan Youth,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.