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 Tajikistan and from Tokyo.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 spring reverb 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the grime 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Faust,
Thompson Twins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Halsall,
Gang Starr,
Massinfluence,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-102,
Urselle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Velvet Underground,
John Foxx,
The Golliwogs,
The Cramps,
Section 25,
The Durutti Column,
The Dead C,
Funky Four + One,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Move,
Moby Grape,
These Immortal Souls,
Bill Near,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
E-Dancer,
Leonard Cohen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Wings,
Amon Düül,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Beau Brummels,
Excepter,
Guru Guru,
Rhythm & Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Liliput,
Von Mondo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
DNA,
Barbara Tucker,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Toasters,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
The Techniques,
Roy Ayers,
Bronski Beat,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rufus Thomas,
Newcleus,
Camberwell Now,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Smiths,
Accadde A,
Deakin,
The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club, The Gun Club.
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.