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 Papua New Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer 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 Blues Magoos to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
World's Most,
Lou Reed,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Marc Almond,
The Doors,
The Victims,
Tommy Roe,
Dawn Penn,
Roxette,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Vogues,
The Selecter,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
The Evens,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Golliwogs,
Iggy Pop,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Skatalites,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mandrill,
The Human League,
Eli Mardock,
Easy Going,
Howard Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Pop Group,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Aswad,
Blossom Toes,
Ten City,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pylon,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Minny Pops,
Sällskapet,
John Foxx,
Mission of Burma,
Japan,
Leonard Cohen,
The Flesh Eaters,
the Association,
Joensuu 1685,
Funkadelic,
Con Funk Shun,
Erasure,
The Gap Band,
The Buckinghams,
Unwound,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.