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 Finland and from Woodstock.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 guitar 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 The Seeds to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Peter and Kerry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Public Enemy,
Roger Hodgson,
Malaria!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Red Krayola,
Deepchord,
The Moleskins,
T.S.O.L.,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
These Immortal Souls,
Ultra Naté,
The Monochrome Set,
the Germs,
Ponytail,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boz Scaggs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Residents,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Urselle,
June of 44,
The Electric Prunes,
Dennis Brown,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lindisfarne,
Boogie Down Productions,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Byron Stingily,
Camberwell Now,
Negative Approach,
Rakim,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Smiths,
Henry Cow,
The Grass Roots,
The Cramps,
Crooked Eye,
The Slits,
The Index,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Aural Exciters,
A Certain Ratio,
James White and The Blacks,
Shuggie Otis,
Pere Ubu,
PIL,
Easy Going,
Quantec,
Mandrill,
Thompson Twins,
Gerry Rafferty,
Young Marble Giants,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.