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 Vanuatu and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 chamberlin 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
Lyres,
Cymande,
Man Parrish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
T. Rex,
Bizarre Inc.,
Eric Copeland,
Y Pants,
Flash Fearless,
The Mojo Men,
Harpers Bizarre,
Robert Hood,
Howard Jones,
Steve Hackett,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Radio Birdman,
Pagans,
Hasil Adkins,
Sonic Youth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Johnny Clarke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gastr Del Sol,
Davy DMX,
Bobby Byrd,
the Germs,
Pantaleimon,
K-Klass,
Ornette Coleman,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Andrew Hill,
Von Mondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Juan Atkins,
Bad Manners,
Pharoah Sanders,
Barry Ungar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
La Düsseldorf,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Agitation Free,
Vainqueur,
MC5,
Shuggie Otis,
the Soft Cell,
Kas Product,
Ralphi Rosario,
Audionom,
Donald Byrd,
Amon Düül,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Quando Quango,
Marine Girls,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Finger,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.