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 Congo and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
the Association,
Crooked Eye,
Royal Trux,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
the Soft Cell,
Moby Grape,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Pussy Galore,
Chrome,
Tom Boy,
La Düsseldorf,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
the Normal,
Jacques Brel,
Severed Heads,
Pylon,
Archie Shepp,
X-Ray Spex,
Kenny Larkin,
Ultimate Spinach,
Graham Central Station,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Searchers,
Minnie Riperton,
kango's stein massive,
Peter & Gordon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cheater Slicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Fall,
DNA,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
48th St. Collective,
Eric Dolphy,
Kayak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Aswad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Godley & Creme,
Ultra Naté,
The Busters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ponytail,
Sun Ra,
The Toasters,
Vladislav Delay,
Essential Logic,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Basic Channel,
Henry Cow,
T. Rex,
Wings,
One Last Wish,
Maurizio,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.