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 Venezuela and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Real Kids to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Mojo Men tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
Soul II Soul,
Camouflage,
Flash Fearless,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yaz,
The Busters,
The Gories,
The Durutti Column,
World's Most,
Suburban Knight,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Toni Rubio,
10cc,
Jeff Mills,
Kaleidoscope,
Wolf Eyes,
Amon Düül II,
Quantec,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Stiv Bators,
Stockholm Monsters,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wings,
Tommy Roe,
Freddie Wadling,
Oblivians,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
CMW,
Dead Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
One Last Wish,
Hot Snakes,
New Order,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Althea and Donna,
Basic Channel,
Surgeon,
Alison Limerick,
Black Flag,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Stooges,
Parry Music,
Bush Tetras,
Anakelly,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eric Copeland,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Steve Hackett,
The Blackbyrds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pharoah Sanders,
Khruangbin,
Stetsasonic,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.