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 United States and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 harpsichord 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 Joe Smooth to the disco 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 The Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funkadelic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Smog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Technova,
Gichy Dan,
Camberwell Now,
Mark Hollis,
Glenn Branca,
Sonny Sharrock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Index,
The J.B.'s,
Alison Limerick,
Shoche,
Rod Modell,
Throbbing Gristle,
Neu!,
The Fall,
DNA,
Yellowson,
Camouflage,
New Order,
Derrick Morgan,
Porter Ricks,
The Mummies,
Babytalk,
Max Romeo,
Sällskapet,
Sex Pistols,
Delon & Dalcan,
EPMD,
Little Man,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Minor Threat,
Hasil Adkins,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Arcadia,
Reuben Wilson,
Grey Daturas,
John Lydon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bronski Beat,
UT,
Vainqueur,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Godley & Creme,
Can,
Absolute Body Control,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fortunes,
The Smiths,
Blake Baxter,
Ultravox,
The Trojans,
Joy Division,
Jacques Brel,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kenny Larkin,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Womack,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.