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 United Kingdom and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Easy Going to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ronan,
Marmalade,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Smoke,
Roxette,
Skarface,
Moby Grape,
10cc,
Gichy Dan,
Warsaw,
DJ Style,
Dave Gahan,
Joy Division,
Blossom Toes,
Essential Logic,
Mandrill,
The American Breed,
Cybotron,
The Smiths,
Lyres,
Desert Stars,
Outsiders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marc Almond,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Drive Like Jehu,
Wasted Youth,
H. Thieme,
KRS-One,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ossler,
Eurythmics,
The Standells,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dead Boys,
Donald Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Underground Resistance,
Arthur Verocai,
Fat Boys,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
Television,
Tomorrow,
Cameo,
Mad Mike,
Scion,
ABBA,
Sonny Sharrock,
T. Rex,
The Moody Blues,
Skaos,
Scan 7,
Chrome,
Mission of Burma,
Thompson Twins,
Eric B and Rakim,
Davy DMX,
Connie Case,
New Order,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.