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 Slovakia and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Michael McDonald 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 Brick to the electroclash 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 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 güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
The Sound,
Scan 7,
Bobby Byrd,
AZ,
Sight & Sound,
Minutemen,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rekid,
CMW,
Harry Pussy,
Chrome,
R.M.O.,
Tears for Fears,
Davy DMX,
Procol Harum,
Siglo XX,
Los Fastidios,
Skarface,
Brass Construction,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Dead C,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soulsonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
The Stooges,
Glambeats Corp.,
Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camberwell Now,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Jeff Lynne,
The New Christs,
Sugar Minott,
Suburban Knight,
Alphaville,
Carl Craig,
Freddie Wadling,
Marine Girls,
Dead Boys,
Deadbeat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Scratch Acid,
Cecil Taylor,
The Offenders,
Boredoms,
Mark Hollis,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Slave,
Pantytec,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.