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 Sweden and from Portland.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 China Crisis to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
John Holt,
Hasil Adkins,
The Pretty Things,
Bill Near,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
U.S. Maple,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Goldenarms,
The Happenings,
Wire,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mandrill,
Gabor Szabo,
Camberwell Now,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
Skaos,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
T. Rex,
Anakelly,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
10cc,
MC5,
The Cowsills,
The Monks,
Pantytec,
Albert Ayler,
Soul II Soul,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Zero Boys,
R.M.O.,
The Mummies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Monks,
Black Flag,
Tears for Fears,
Cymande,
Radiohead,
X-102,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jesper Dahlback,
New Age Steppers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Darondo,
Porter Ricks,
The Last Poets,
Cybotron,
Brothers Johnson,
Marine Girls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mark Hollis,
EPMD,
Brick,
Adolescents,
David Axelrod,
The Move,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.