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 Iran and from Hong Kong.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 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 Fortunes to the electroclash 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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Marc Almond,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Womack,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Near,
Spandau Ballet,
Y Pants,
Ituana,
Fluxion,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Flamin' Groovies,
The American Breed,
Jandek,
Smog,
Lightning Bolt,
Public Enemy,
Crime,
Nik Kershaw,
Yusef Lateef,
Nico,
Wolf Eyes,
Adolescents,
K-Klass,
The Invisible,
Roxette,
Swans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Maleditus Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Desert Stars,
Icehouse,
Sandy B,
Delta 5,
The Fortunes,
Bobby Sherman,
Eurythmics,
Television Personalities,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Minutemen,
John Foxx,
Soulsonic Force,
10cc,
Aural Exciters,
Davy DMX,
Toni Rubio,
Slick Rick,
The Sound,
The Cowsills,
Erykah Badu,
The Durutti Column,
The Kinks,
JFA,
Excepter,
Quadrant,
David Bowie,
Dorothy Ashby,
Grauzone,
The Raincoats,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.