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 Honduras and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Shadows of Knight to the dance 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Can,
Livin' Joy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Infiniti,
Interpol,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
Basic Channel,
Robert Wyatt,
Patti Smith,
Groovy Waters,
The Smiths,
Lucky Dragons,
The Busters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mission of Burma,
The Misunderstood,
Tomorrow,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter & Gordon,
Stockholm Monsters,
B.T. Express,
The Skatalites,
Nico,
Babytalk,
Ohio Players,
Delta 5,
Rufus Thomas,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Fugazi,
Lungfish,
Harry Pussy,
Minutemen,
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Aswad,
Absolute Body Control,
Sister Nancy,
The Move,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Arcadia,
Severed Heads,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Bar-Kays,
Tommy Roe,
Gabor Szabo,
Rod Modell,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
The Angels of Light,
The Slits,
Johnny Clarke,
Crash Course in Science,
Newcleus,
Amon Düül,
Camberwell Now,
Howard Jones,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.