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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Eve St. Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Heaven 17,
The Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Prince Buster,
Oblivians,
Michelle Simonal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tom Boy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Walker Brothers,
The Grass Roots,
Visage,
the Bar-Kays,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skriet,
Flipper,
Blossom Toes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Essential Logic,
Joey Negro,
The Dirtbombs,
Jacob Miller,
The Dead C,
John Lydon,
Cameo,
Ronan,
The Leaves,
Livin' Joy,
Second Layer,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Johnny Clarke,
Terry Callier,
AZ,
Duran Duran,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Lynne,
Faraquet,
Deadbeat,
Quando Quango,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pussy Galore,
Radio Birdman,
The Mummies,
Simply Red,
The Searchers,
Public Image Ltd.,
Morten Harket,
The Trojans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Move,
cv313,
Terrestrial Tones,
Half Japanese,
MDC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Television Personalities,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Sherman,
Gang Gang Dance,
Alice Coltrane,
Accadde A,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.