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 Turkey and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dual Sessions to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nik Kershaw record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Camberwell Now,
the Normal,
Donald Byrd,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Outsiders,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
Althea and Donna,
The Music Machine,
The Litter,
Toni Rubio,
The Raincoats,
Motorama,
Bad Manners,
Black Bananas,
The Real Kids,
Cheater Slicks,
The J.B.'s,
Rapeman,
Camouflage,
Qualms,
48th St. Collective,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Supertramp,
June Days,
Circle Jerks,
Letta Mbulu,
Pylon,
Ohio Players,
The Moody Blues,
ABBA,
Lungfish,
Stetsasonic,
B.T. Express,
The Motions,
The Slackers,
Warsaw,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
Dual Sessions,
Arab on Radar,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Shoche,
The Pop Group,
Andrew Hill,
Angry Samoans,
Spoonie Gee,
Max Romeo,
the Slits,
The Associates,
DNA,
Jacques Brel,
Mars,
Whodini,
Marine Girls,
The American Breed,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.