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 El Salvador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joy Division to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Y Pants 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joey Negro,
Mandrill,
Jimmy McGriff,
Das Ding,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Malaria!,
the Swans,
Magma,
The Angels of Light,
Popol Vuh,
The Slits,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barclay James Harvest,
Audionom,
Kerrie Biddell,
AZ,
Urselle,
The Human League,
X-Ray Spex,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
New York Dolls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
The Real Kids,
Eric Copeland,
Terrestrial Tones,
the Association,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Blake Baxter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sam Rivers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Traffic Nightmare,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Mark Hollis,
The Happenings,
Television Personalities,
Zapp,
Vladislav Delay,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rekid,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Reagan Youth,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Moleskins,
Quadrant,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lucky Dragons,
Max Romeo,
Hoover,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Rakim,
Boredoms,
Roxette,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Symarip,
Leonard Cohen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.