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 the UAE and from Seoul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Terrestrial Tones to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kurtis Blow. All the underground hits.
All Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Byron Stingily,
Yazoo,
The Mojo Men,
The Gories,
Fat Boys,
Gichy Dan,
Kerri Chandler,
Wire,
Banda Bassotti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Camouflage,
Bill Near,
Donald Byrd,
Joyce Sims,
Deadbeat,
EPMD,
B.T. Express,
Lalo Schifrin,
Y Pants,
Half Japanese,
The Star Department,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Hood,
The Modern Lovers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
D'Angelo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Little Man,
La Düsseldorf,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rekid,
Fatback Band,
Nick Fraelich,
The Toasters,
Average White Band,
Basic Channel,
Aaron Thompson,
Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
Silicon Teens,
Rosa Yemen,
Lindisfarne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Fear,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Birthday Party,
Albert Ayler,
Don Cherry,
Accadde A,
Brass Construction,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Oblivians,
Moss Icon,
Bauhaus,
Howard Jones,
John Lydon,
Massinfluence,
Yellowson,
World's Most,
Cheater Slicks,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.