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 Jamaica and from Glasgow.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slick Rick to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Little Man,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bronski Beat,
Altered Images,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Wells,
Marcia Griffiths,
Vladislav Delay,
Girls At Our Best!,
Supertramp,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Jerry's Kids,
Mandrill,
Monks,
Tubeway Army,
PIL,
Steve Hackett,
Roxy Music,
Sandy B,
Pagans,
Suburban Knight,
Agent Orange,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Index,
Kenny Larkin,
Rites of Spring,
Tommy Roe,
Piero Umiliani,
Marshall Jefferson,
Faraquet,
Duran Duran,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Pus,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crooked Eye,
Banda Bassotti,
The Music Machine,
Fatback Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Faust,
Ituana,
Popol Vuh,
Man Parrish,
Brass Construction,
Sight & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Tomorrow,
The Fugs,
Jacob Miller,
Max Romeo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
Saccharine Trust,
Scan 7,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
Frankie Knuckles,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.