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 Marshall Islands and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 Henry Cow to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Newcleus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sound Behaviour,
Steve Hackett,
Mad Mike,
Peter and Kerry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Techniques,
Eli Mardock,
Porter Ricks,
K-Klass,
Black Pus,
Harmonia,
U.S. Maple,
The Divine Comedy,
The Slits,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Soft Cell,
Nico,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
Main Source,
Lalann,
Monks,
Theoretical Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Spandau Ballet,
Average White Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Alice Coltrane,
Brass Construction,
Stereo Dub,
Mission of Burma,
Radio Birdman,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Names,
Soul II Soul,
Reuben Wilson,
Minny Pops,
Young Marble Giants,
The Dead C,
Mantronix,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Patti Smith,
The J.B.'s,
Sällskapet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Marc Almond,
Marmalade,
Sarah Menescal,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radiohead,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deepchord,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.