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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the electroclash 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Bill Near,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Golliwogs,
These Immortal Souls,
Dennis Brown,
Quando Quango,
Mo-Dettes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Minnie Riperton,
Sight & Sound,
The Smoke,
The Fire Engines,
Newcleus,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Soft Cell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
R.M.O.,
Loose Ends,
Gang Starr,
Max Romeo,
The Toasters,
Patti Smith,
Fluxion,
Amon Düül,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
KRS-One,
Bronski Beat,
X-101,
Gerry Rafferty,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nik Kershaw,
Boz Scaggs,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Quadrant,
The Dead C,
Monolake,
Agitation Free,
Lalann,
The Saints,
June of 44,
Sun Ra,
Shoche,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Guru Guru,
Jacques Brel,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sam Rivers,
Sugar Minott,
Lightning Bolt,
48th St. Collective,
Marmalade,
Average White Band,
Kas Product,
Aural Exciters,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Eric Dolphy,
The Searchers,
Ituana,
T. Rex,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.