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 Netherlands and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Supertramp 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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fifty Foot Hose record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Barbara Tucker,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
K-Klass,
Wolf Eyes,
Idris Muhammad,
Jimmy McGriff,
Peter and Kerry,
The J.B.'s,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Drexciya,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Erykah Badu,
The Stooges,
Livin' Joy,
Rotary Connection,
Con Funk Shun,
Inner City,
Colin Newman,
Harmonia,
Oblivians,
E-Dancer,
Joey Negro,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shoche,
The Gories,
Blake Baxter,
The Offenders,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stereo Dub,
OOIOO,
Fad Gadget,
The Dirtbombs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rod Modell,
Dual Sessions,
Cluster,
Funkadelic,
Metal Thangz,
Don Cherry,
Terry Callier,
The Leaves,
Little Man,
Fat Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dave Gahan,
Wasted Youth,
Easy Going,
Ronnie Foster,
Surgeon,
Youth Brigade,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Slave,
Malaria!,
Matthew Bourne,
the Normal,
New Age Steppers,
Ludus,
Heaven 17,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
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.