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 Dominican Republic and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Manila.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Swans to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Subhumans,
Technova,
The Barracudas,
Faust,
Eric Copeland,
Fatback Band,
Crooked Eye,
The Techniques,
Blancmange,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Young Rascals,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tom Boy,
Zapp,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Audionom,
Lebanon Hanover,
Symarip,
Jeru the Damaja,
Index,
The Doors,
One Last Wish,
Mars,
Black Moon,
The Toasters,
Mo-Dettes,
Toni Rubio,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joey Negro,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sound,
The Martian,
Surgeon,
Brand Nubian,
Bootsy Collins,
Terry Callier,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
Vladislav Delay,
The Move,
Sarah Menescal,
David Bowie,
Wasted Youth,
Bill Wells,
Q and Not U,
Gang of Four,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Steve Hackett,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aswad,
Lower 48,
Grey Daturas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Ohio Players,
Lyres,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.