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 France and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Television,
Amazonics,
Joe Smooth,
Underground Resistance,
the Human League,
The Dirtbombs,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jeff Lynne,
James White and The Blacks,
Make Up,
E-Dancer,
Marcia Griffiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brothers Johnson,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Almond,
Lalann,
Joensuu 1685,
Robert Wyatt,
World's Most,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fat Boys,
Crash Course in Science,
Scrapy,
T. Rex,
Stereo Dub,
Half Japanese,
Infiniti,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gichy Dan,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra,
Porter Ricks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Junior Murvin,
Con Funk Shun,
The Index,
Crispian St. Peters,
L. Decosne,
Tim Buckley,
Absolute Body Control,
The Last Poets,
Eurythmics,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Bauhaus,
The Motions,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Neon Judgement,
Piero Umiliani,
Section 25,
Magma,
Bill Near,
The Kinks,
Model 500,
Mission of Burma,
Tom Boy,
Toni Rubio,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.