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 Sweden and from Johannesburg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Soul Sonic Force to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Drexciya,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Anakelly,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Buckinghams,
Whodini,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Motorama,
Aswad,
Gong,
Aural Exciters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fat Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Rites of Spring,
Wasted Youth,
Spoonie Gee,
The Moody Blues,
Kaleidoscope,
Jawbox,
Niagra,
The Blues Magoos,
LL Cool J,
Sixth Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
UT,
The Motions,
Junior Murvin,
Nick Fraelich,
the Bar-Kays,
Stockholm Monsters,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
Pantytec,
AZ,
Roxette,
Pylon,
the Sonics,
Wire,
Marine Girls,
Peter & Gordon,
Arcadia,
Kerri Chandler,
Alton Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Holt,
10cc,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Flag,
Henry Cow,
Shuggie Otis,
Magazine,
Beasts of Bourbon,
These Immortal Souls,
Howard Jones,
The Five Americans,
Jacques Brel,
The Trojans,
Mantronix,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.