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 Swaziland and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the rap 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gregory Isaacs,
Tomorrow,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
The Human League,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hot Snakes,
10cc,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eurythmics,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mission of Burma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Symarip,
Scan 7,
the Germs,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra,
DNA,
Public Enemy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Marvin Gaye,
Stereo Dub,
Max Romeo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Faust,
Magma,
Blossom Toes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ultra Naté,
The Wake,
Babytalk,
Avey Tare,
The Divine Comedy,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
Barry Ungar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skaos,
Spandau Ballet,
Niagra,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Bananas,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yazoo,
Aloha Tigers,
Skriet,
Bang On A Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
L. Decosne,
Pole,
Joe Smooth,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.