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 Venezuela and from Mumbai.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Barracudas to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Loose Ends. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Excepter,
K-Klass,
Marc Almond,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sonics,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Japan,
David Axelrod,
Faust,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Hoover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Intrusion,
The Searchers,
Dead Boys,
Wally Richardson,
T.S.O.L.,
Stetsasonic,
U.S. Maple,
Sun Ra,
Stereo Dub,
Crispian St. Peters,
Man Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
The Five Americans,
D'Angelo,
The Pretty Things,
The Birthday Party,
Liliput,
Avey Tare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ituana,
Deepchord,
The Moleskins,
kango's stein massive,
The Mummies,
The New Christs,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fad Gadget,
Slick Rick,
Audionom,
EPMD,
Ponytail,
Boredoms,
Ken Boothe,
Godley & Creme,
Wolf Eyes,
Banda Bassotti,
Desert Stars,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fatback Band,
Mark Hollis,
Arcadia,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Sheep,
Model 500,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.