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 Seychelles and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kaleidoscope to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Pole,
Groovy Waters,
Spandau Ballet,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Isaac Hayes,
Television,
Ohio Players,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Smooth,
The Move,
R.M.O.,
Echospace,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
Procol Harum,
Freddie Wadling,
U.S. Maple,
The Beau Brummels,
Malaria!,
Flamin' Groovies,
Max Romeo,
Warsaw,
Zero Boys,
Section 25,
Wasted Youth,
Thee Headcoats,
Sight & Sound,
Severed Heads,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Funkadelic,
A Certain Ratio,
The United States of America,
Zapp,
Buzzcocks,
Tom Boy,
David Bowie,
Rufus Thomas,
Tommy Roe,
Heaven 17,
Delta 5,
Joyce Sims,
Bluetip,
Amazonics,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Cramps,
Vladislav Delay,
Lower 48,
ABBA,
Inner City,
Spoonie Gee,
The Mummies,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
Johnny Clarke,
Chrome,
Quantec,
the Fania All-Stars,
The New Christs,
Charles Mingus,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.