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 Burkina and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Lungfish to the grunge 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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kas Product,
Technova,
the Sonics,
Tropical Tobacco,
Symarip,
Bill Wells,
Delta 5,
Tears for Fears,
Man Parrish,
Sixth Finger,
Monks,
Faust,
The Blackbyrds,
Ituana,
The Buckinghams,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chris & Cosey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Idris Muhammad,
Minnie Riperton,
Nils Olav,
Grauzone,
Graham Central Station,
The Grass Roots,
Joy Division,
Stockholm Monsters,
Second Layer,
Drexciya,
Cymande,
Zapp,
Iggy Pop,
Sex Pistols,
Roxy Music,
Maleditus Sound,
Jandek,
Dark Day,
Lightning Bolt,
The Saints,
The Fire Engines,
Jeff Lynne,
Yazoo,
Nik Kershaw,
The Moody Blues,
John Holt,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Donald Byrd,
FM Einheit,
KRS-One,
Unrelated Segments,
Severed Heads,
Gastr Del Sol,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rod Modell,
Morten Harket,
Scientists,
the Swans,
Outsiders,
Sonic Youth,
Index,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.