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 Seychelles and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Scott Walker,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liliput,
Wire,
The Sisters of Mercy,
PIL,
Malaria!,
The Pop Group,
Joensuu 1685,
the Association,
Cymande,
Harry Pussy,
Negative Approach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Funkadelic,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül,
The Cramps,
Brand Nubian,
Stockholm Monsters,
Thee Headcoats,
Todd Terry,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Drexciya,
Porter Ricks,
EPMD,
Sixth Finger,
Josef K,
Magazine,
Stetsasonic,
Agent Orange,
OOIOO,
Spandau Ballet,
Delon & Dalcan,
Janne Schatter,
Soulsonic Force,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Motions,
10cc,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Charles Mingus,
Con Funk Shun,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barrington Levy,
Bluetip,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Black Bananas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Altered Images,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Sheep,
The Walker Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
Joy Division,
Colin Newman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Christie,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.