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 South Africa and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Lagos and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 guitar 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 John Holt to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Little Man,
MC5,
Wings,
Vainqueur,
Camouflage,
Morten Harket,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
Todd Terry,
The Young Rascals,
Gastr Del Sol,
Smog,
the Bar-Kays,
Qualms,
Joyce Sims,
Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Skriet,
Joe Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Eve St. Jones,
Jeff Mills,
the Germs,
Joey Negro,
Cymande,
Harmonia,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Blake Baxter,
the Human League,
Stiv Bators,
Al Stewart,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
The Standells,
The Dave Clark Five,
Theoretical Girls,
Roger Hodgson,
Roxette,
The Divine Comedy,
U.S. Maple,
D'Angelo,
Whodini,
Aural Exciters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Godley & Creme,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Aaron Thompson,
Prince Buster,
Bronski Beat,
Newcleus,
Brick,
Circle Jerks,
Erykah Badu,
Franke,
Darondo,
Maurizio,
Severed Heads,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.