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 Ethiopia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kevin Saunderson to the disco 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 Don Cherry. All the underground hits.
All Yazoo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Glenn Branca,
Deakin,
K-Klass,
Swans,
KRS-One,
Maleditus Sound,
Bill Near,
Bush Tetras,
Man Parrish,
Buzzcocks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Reagan Youth,
The Victims,
Minutemen,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Selecter,
Chris Corsano,
Laurel Aitken,
Dawn Penn,
Aloha Tigers,
Soulsonic Force,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Jandek,
Dual Sessions,
Mr. Review,
The Cowsills,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sexual Harrassment,
June Days,
Matthew Halsall,
Wally Richardson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Teasers,
Ronnie Foster,
Lakeside,
Gong,
The Names,
The Motions,
The Associates,
Jeff Lynne,
Tomorrow,
Cecil Taylor,
Das Ding,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David McCallum,
Yazoo,
Stiv Bators,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pantytec,
Tom Boy,
Maurizio,
Judy Mowatt,
Gabor Szabo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Marine Girls,
Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus, Charles Mingus.
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.