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 El Salvador and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Neil Young to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cybotron 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Spoonie Gee,
Idris Muhammad,
the Slits,
Parry Music,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New Age Steppers,
The Offenders,
Fatback Band,
Arab on Radar,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angry Samoans,
Masters at Work,
Shoche,
Spandau Ballet,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Bourne,
Alphaville,
Harry Pussy,
Althea and Donna,
X-Ray Spex,
Boogie Down Productions,
Stereo Dub,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Crooked Eye,
Audionom,
Funky Four + One,
Derrick May,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Tears for Fears,
Don Cherry,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mandrill,
Lucky Dragons,
Gang Starr,
This Heat,
Main Source,
Silicon Teens,
Davy DMX,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Pus,
The Pop Group,
Underground Resistance,
Bobbi Humphrey,
New Order,
Mary Jane Girls,
L. Decosne,
Darondo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rapeman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.