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 Austria 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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Grey Daturas to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
The Offenders,
The Gladiators,
The Kinks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
X-102,
Monolake,
The New Christs,
Ituana,
The Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Mo-Dettes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Minny Pops,
Circle Jerks,
Y Pants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Faust,
Q65,
Bush Tetras,
Spandau Ballet,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Matthew Bourne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Black Bananas,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ten City,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
Das Ding,
Eddi Front,
D'Angelo,
H. Thieme,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Almond,
Massinfluence,
Iggy Pop,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonic Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Urselle,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Remains,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter and Kerry,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Albert Ayler,
The Human League,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Wally Richardson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dual Sessions,
Altered Images,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.