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 Togo and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Wells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
DNA,
Erasure,
Gang Starr,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fugs,
Brick,
Jacques Brel,
Echospace,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
Spandau Ballet,
Mark Hollis,
Vainqueur,
Rosa Yemen,
Public Image Ltd.,
JFA,
The Human League,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
The Gories,
cv313,
Flash Fearless,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Blues Magoos,
D'Angelo,
Michelle Simonal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Graham Central Station,
Quadrant,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobby Byrd,
the Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Rod Modell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Das Ding,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lou Christie,
The Five Americans,
the Swans,
Joe Smooth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Procol Harum,
Cecil Taylor,
The Buckinghams,
Monks,
K-Klass,
The Skatalites,
Grauzone,
Alison Limerick,
Mr. Review,
The Real Kids,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Beau Brummels,
Mo-Dettes,
Dennis Brown,
David Bowie,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.