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 Bulgaria and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Sandy B to the rap 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Albert Ayler,
Pylon,
Technova,
Pole,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Misunderstood,
Infiniti,
Thompson Twins,
Steve Hackett,
Pussy Galore,
Connie Case,
Ten City,
Das Ding,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Colin Newman,
Main Source,
Grauzone,
Boz Scaggs,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slackers,
Ice-T,
F. McDonald,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sex Pistols,
The Human League,
Oblivians,
Youth Brigade,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
The Zeros,
Faust,
Rotary Connection,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
Lower 48,
Panda Bear,
Cecil Taylor,
David McCallum,
Sound Behaviour,
The Knickerbockers,
Lou Christie,
Bluetip,
The Count Five,
Essential Logic,
The Last Poets,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
Spoonie Gee,
Swans,
The Cure,
Stiv Bators,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grey Daturas,
Popol Vuh,
Livin' Joy,
Surgeon,
Lalann,
Sister Nancy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.