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 Cameroon and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 theremin 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 Sonics to the rap 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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Electric Prunes,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultra Naté,
The Buckinghams,
Skarface,
Althea and Donna,
Pole,
Rekid,
The Happenings,
Eurythmics,
Mandrill,
Ludus,
Radiohead,
The Litter,
Jeff Lynne,
The Victims,
Eric B and Rakim,
Organ,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Pere Ubu,
Drexciya,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sarah Menescal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New Order,
Main Source,
Mary Jane Girls,
X-101,
Symarip,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pierre Henry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mark Hollis,
Black Bananas,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Birthday Party,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Accadde A,
Pantytec,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
Zero Boys,
Pagans,
Warren Ellis,
Lou Christie,
Cymande,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lou Reed,
Ponytail,
Dave Gahan,
The United States of America,
The Electric Prunes,
The Dead C,
The Smoke,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
Matthew Halsall,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.