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 Guinea and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bobby Sherman to the electroclash 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 John Foxx. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Barry Ungar,
Andrew Hill,
X-Ray Spex,
Dual Sessions,
The Fuzztones,
Danielle Patucci,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Faraquet,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
Porter Ricks,
Simply Red,
Derrick Morgan,
48th St. Collective,
Scratch Acid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Theoretical Girls,
Bootsy Collins,
Cal Tjader,
Silicon Teens,
Jandek,
Mars,
Pagans,
Q and Not U,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bauhaus,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Chris Corsano,
Mark Hollis,
Eve St. Jones,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
Marvin Gaye,
Kayak,
Aloha Tigers,
Underground Resistance,
Youth Brigade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
World's Most,
The Five Americans,
Groovy Waters,
Livin' Joy,
Au Pairs,
Derrick May,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Blues Magoos,
Peter and Kerry,
The Saints,
These Immortal Souls,
Josef K,
Mo-Dettes,
Easy Going,
Subhumans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.