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 Cape Verde and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro 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 Thompson Twins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
Jeff Lynne,
Agitation Free,
the Bar-Kays,
Delta 5,
Model 500,
Gong,
Ponytail,
The Techniques,
Pylon,
Piero Umiliani,
Wolf Eyes,
Frankie Knuckles,
Eli Mardock,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerrie Biddell,
Skriet,
Kayak,
Lindisfarne,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
Hot Snakes,
Soulsonic Force,
Ossler,
The Dirtbombs,
Black Moon,
The Move,
New Order,
ABC,
The Birthday Party,
Brand Nubian,
Severed Heads,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Star Department,
Cluster,
Glenn Branca,
The Zeros,
Procol Harum,
The Vogues,
Graham Central Station,
Arthur Verocai,
Boredoms,
Monolake,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Silicon Teens,
Pulsallama,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Seeds,
Brass Construction,
Lightning Bolt,
Pantytec,
Carl Craig,
Scrapy,
Donald Byrd,
Colin Newman,
The Stooges,
Japan,
the Swans,
Guru Guru,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
John Lydon,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.