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 Mauritius and from Portland.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Litter to the grunge 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Thee Headcoats,
Lower 48,
New Age Steppers,
Basic Channel,
Jeff Lynne,
The Invisible,
Skriet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Minutemen,
The J.B.'s,
The Dave Clark Five,
Carl Craig,
The Music Machine,
The Leaves,
Man Parrish,
Black Sheep,
Kevin Saunderson,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Slits,
Vainqueur,
UT,
The Fortunes,
Rotary Connection,
DJ Sneak,
Tim Buckley,
The Blackbyrds,
Boredoms,
Half Japanese,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Chrome,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sparks,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Foxx,
Mantronix,
The Divine Comedy,
Erasure,
E-Dancer,
Scientists,
Bang On A Can,
Nils Olav,
the Human League,
CMW,
John Holt,
Altered Images,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Five Americans,
June Days,
Wolf Eyes,
MC5,
Gang of Four,
Whodini,
Alice Coltrane,
the Soft Cell,
The Move,
X-102,
Procol Harum,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.