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 Honduras and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Divine Comedy to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erasure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jawbox,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Judy Mowatt,
David McCallum,
Eli Mardock,
Angry Samoans,
Bluetip,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hardrive,
Gang Starr,
Howard Jones,
Sun Ra,
Ken Boothe,
Public Image Ltd.,
Quando Quango,
cv313,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Wolf Eyes,
John Coltrane,
Ultra Naté,
ABC,
Brand Nubian,
Stockholm Monsters,
Rapeman,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gladiators,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Monochrome Set,
Alison Limerick,
Bad Manners,
Pantaleimon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Albert Ayler,
The Names,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Spandau Ballet,
The Moody Blues,
Maleditus Sound,
The Sound,
Roger Hodgson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Letta Mbulu,
Lightning Bolt,
Funkadelic,
Kerri Chandler,
Average White Band,
Fela Kuti,
DNA,
Urselle,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Lydon,
The Human League,
La Düsseldorf,
Newcleus,
Warsaw,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ossler,
Jacob Miller,
Wally Richardson,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.