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 Monaco and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Theoretical Girls to the funk 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
Parry Music,
Silicon Teens,
Basic Channel,
Adolescents,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Anakelly,
Pole,
Blancmange,
Ronnie Foster,
Marc Almond,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Maleditus Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Techniques,
Los Fastidios,
Funky Four + One,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Parrish,
Jeff Mills,
Howard Jones,
Intrusion,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Detroit Cobras,
Procol Harum,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Morten Harket,
Cal Tjader,
Saccharine Trust,
Groovy Waters,
Jawbox,
Can,
Con Funk Shun,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
Main Source,
The Moleskins,
Theoretical Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
This Heat,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pylon,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dual Sessions,
Angry Samoans,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Yaz,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
The Monochrome Set,
Harmonia,
The Associates,
The Searchers,
Anthony Braxton,
Urselle,
Terry Callier,
Fad Gadget,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.