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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rock 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 Bad Manners. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Happenings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Pole,
Moebius,
Fear,
Heaven 17,
Byron Stingily,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Skatalites,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Banda Bassotti,
Barrington Levy,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gang Gang Dance,
Rosa Yemen,
K-Klass,
Swell Maps,
Duran Duran,
Man Parrish,
Eurythmics,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Quantec,
Average White Band,
Crime,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jerry's Kids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ronan,
The Associates,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Flesh Eaters,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Throbbing Gristle,
Eden Ahbez,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bill Wells,
T. Rex,
OOIOO,
Bad Manners,
X-102,
Johnny Osbourne,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magma,
F. McDonald,
Black Moon,
Yazoo,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tom Boy,
Technova,
Kayak,
Flipper,
The Modern Lovers,
Intrusion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Organ,
Gabor Szabo,
Audionom,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.