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 Poland and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 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 the Human League to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Oneida,
Jeff Lynne,
Graham Central Station,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Slits,
L. Decosne,
Index,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blossom Toes,
Outsiders,
Laurel Aitken,
The Victims,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Bar-Kays,
Skriet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Animal Collective,
Bad Manners,
Aloha Tigers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Cybotron,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
Sonny Sharrock,
Skarface,
Mark Hollis,
Ossler,
Goldenarms,
Essential Logic,
Subhumans,
Cymande,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Hoover,
Frankie Knuckles,
Steve Hackett,
The Dirtbombs,
Radiohead,
Peter & Gordon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ornette Coleman,
The Durutti Column,
June Days,
Nirvana,
The Shadows of Knight,
Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Amon Düül II,
The Monks,
Brick,
Johnny Clarke,
Lalo Schifrin,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.