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 Cuba and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mojo Men,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Vainqueur,
Mary Jane Girls,
Godley & Creme,
The Litter,
Chris Corsano,
T.S.O.L.,
Cecil Taylor,
The Mummies,
The Moody Blues,
The Fire Engines,
Silicon Teens,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Anakelly,
The Doobie Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Tears for Fears,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-Ray Spex,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
The Gories,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
The Young Rascals,
The Five Americans,
the Soft Cell,
The Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Tres Demented,
Ossler,
Deepchord,
Metal Thangz,
The Pretty Things,
8 Eyed Spy,
Piero Umiliani,
Easy Going,
Michelle Simonal,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Association,
The Dirtbombs,
Barry Ungar,
The Star Department,
Buzzcocks,
Ornette Coleman,
Dawn Penn,
Fear,
Mo-Dettes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Smiths,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
The Real Kids,
Iggy Pop,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.