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 Samoa and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Tubeway Army to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Dennis Brown tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & Metallica record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cluster,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Enemy,
Throbbing Gristle,
Con Funk Shun,
Dave Gahan,
Warsaw,
Agitation Free,
The Move,
Colin Newman,
The Evens,
Don Cherry,
Section 25,
The Gladiators,
Ponytail,
The Barracudas,
Hot Snakes,
Surgeon,
Yaz,
Donald Byrd,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Association,
Brass Construction,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cal Tjader,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Steve Hackett,
Quadrant,
Echospace,
Kevin Saunderson,
Shuggie Otis,
X-102,
The Toasters,
Scan 7,
Toni Rubio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moebius,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
U.S. Maple,
Radio Birdman,
Marine Girls,
Fela Kuti,
the Normal,
Main Source,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pop Group,
H. Thieme,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Wally Richardson,
World's Most,
Sällskapet,
New Age Steppers,
The Fire Engines,
Andrew Hill,
Vladislav Delay,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.