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 Senegal and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gichy Dan to the rock 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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 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 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Walker Brothers,
The Residents,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter and Kerry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeru the Damaja,
the Swans,
Supertramp,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Camberwell Now,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
Wasted Youth,
Yaz,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dave Gahan,
Matthew Bourne,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
CMW,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Count Five,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Livin' Joy,
Cheater Slicks,
Eurythmics,
The Divine Comedy,
a-ha,
Magazine,
Marvin Gaye,
Kurtis Blow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Buzzcocks,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Altered Images,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronan,
Zapp,
Eric Copeland,
The Fugs,
Chris Corsano,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pulsallama,
Roxy Music,
Can,
Hasil Adkins,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harry Pussy,
Unwound,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
Jandek,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.