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 Hungary and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Durutti Column,
Funkadelic,
The Slits,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Terrestrial Tones,
Scrapy,
Slave,
Sällskapet,
D'Angelo,
Dennis Brown,
Kerrie Biddell,
Arcadia,
Be Bop Deluxe,
PIL,
Marc Almond,
Max Romeo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The New Christs,
The Fall,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
Mad Mike,
Skarface,
Rakim,
Warsaw,
Anthony Braxton,
Minor Threat,
The Mojo Men,
June of 44,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
Mission of Burma,
One Last Wish,
The Real Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Main Source,
Todd Rundgren,
Cluster,
Kerri Chandler,
Massinfluence,
Average White Band,
L. Decosne,
Juan Atkins,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Gories,
Lalann,
Suicide,
Joy Division,
OOIOO,
Goldenarms,
Swans,
CMW,
Bad Manners,
Joe Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Pop Group,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.