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 Lesotho and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Intrusion to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ornette Coleman. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scan 7,
The Walker Brothers,
Joe Finger,
Adolescents,
Eden Ahbez,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Jacques Brel,
Symarip,
Wolf Eyes,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Excepter,
Tears for Fears,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick Morgan,
LL Cool J,
Glenn Branca,
Echospace,
Faraquet,
Joyce Sims,
Sly & The Family Stone,
John Lydon,
The Alarm Clocks,
David Bowie,
Dorothy Ashby,
Accadde A,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Hill,
Aswad,
Sight & Sound,
The Dirtbombs,
Can,
Avey Tare,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cowsills,
The Barracudas,
Letta Mbulu,
The Martian,
The Evens,
The Seeds,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Idris Muhammad,
Mo-Dettes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Reed,
The Red Krayola,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Banda Bassotti,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Skriet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lalann,
Cameo,
Bluetip,
Audionom,
Babytalk,
Silicon Teens,
Interpol,
Niagra,
DJ Sneak,
Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!, Girls At Our Best!.
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.