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 Lesotho and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Bill Wells to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Fluxion,
Joe Smooth,
Make Up,
David Bowie,
Interpol,
The Angels of Light,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
Fear,
Quantec,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Seeds,
Hasil Adkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Buzzcocks,
Groovy Waters,
Brass Construction,
The Neon Judgement,
Outsiders,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
Wally Richardson,
Can,
Circle Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Idris Muhammad,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Finger,
Talk Talk,
The Music Machine,
Max Romeo,
Wolf Eyes,
Duran Duran,
Delta 5,
Tommy Roe,
Mark Hollis,
Soul Sonic Force,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Christie,
The Tremeloes,
the Human League,
Japan,
Funkadelic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Bananas,
James Chance & The Contortions,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Y Pants,
The Toasters,
Cecil Taylor,
Roxy Music,
Al Stewart,
Marmalade,
The Techniques,
Vainqueur,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.