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 Armenia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DNA to the dance 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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Television tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kerrie Biddell,
Blancmange,
Lower 48,
The Monks,
The Star Department,
The Black Dice,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Camberwell Now,
Parry Music,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chris Corsano,
Duran Duran,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kenny Larkin,
Can,
Reagan Youth,
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Moss Icon,
Black Sheep,
Arab on Radar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crime,
Robert Görl,
Graham Central Station,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Loose Ends,
Bush Tetras,
Tropical Tobacco,
Terrestrial Tones,
Kool Moe Dee,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roxette,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
B.T. Express,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eric Dolphy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Schoolly D,
The Moody Blues,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Slits,
Nas,
Marine Girls,
Mark Hollis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Max Romeo,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.