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 Zimbabwe and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the rock 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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Y Pants,
Henry Cow,
Minor Threat,
Das Ding,
Dave Gahan,
Roger Hodgson,
The Velvet Underground,
The Martian,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Intrusion,
Little Man,
Country Teasers,
The Searchers,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
The Sonics,
Supertramp,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
World's Most,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Names,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Warsaw,
Wire,
New Order,
Don Cherry,
Freddie Wadling,
Flipper,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Second Layer,
Mark Hollis,
Masters at Work,
Bad Manners,
Quadrant,
Cal Tjader,
Dark Day,
Colin Newman,
Franke,
Saccharine Trust,
Gang Starr,
Joensuu 1685,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fela Kuti,
The Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Japan,
The Grass Roots,
Ronan,
Blake Baxter,
Josef K,
Excepter,
Curtis Mayfield,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.