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 Brunei and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Robert Palmer 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 Pere Ubu to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
The Birthday Party,
Whodini,
The Fortunes,
Fear,
Rekid,
Rapeman,
Reuben Wilson,
Scion,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultimate Spinach,
Porter Ricks,
The Buckinghams,
Heaven 17,
Can,
Moebius,
Sandy B,
Main Source,
Gil Scott Heron,
Underground Resistance,
Mantronix,
Ultravox,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Barracudas,
The Smiths,
Reagan Youth,
Erykah Badu,
Max Romeo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Connie Case,
Subhumans,
DJ Style,
Index,
Yusef Lateef,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slave,
Symarip,
Bronski Beat,
Marvin Gaye,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
Godley & Creme,
Lyres,
Minutemen,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sällskapet,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
JFA,
Tres Demented,
Alton Ellis,
Joy Division,
Delta 5,
Eve St. Jones,
Bob Dylan,
Moss Icon,
Absolute Body Control,
Arab on Radar,
The J.B.'s,
Fela Kuti,
Supertramp,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.