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 Albania and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Todd Rundgren to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Nirvana,
Ituana,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Cowsills,
Bad Manners,
Barrington Levy,
Kerri Chandler,
DJ Style,
Dark Day,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
Tropical Tobacco,
Surgeon,
The Fugs,
Bronski Beat,
Kenny Larkin,
Blossom Toes,
Sam Rivers,
Inner City,
Subhumans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Oneida,
The Birthday Party,
Gabor Szabo,
Lou Christie,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minor Threat,
The Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Underground Resistance,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Dead C,
the Germs,
Bobby Byrd,
Rotary Connection,
Juan Atkins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eurythmics,
Slave,
Infiniti,
Derrick May,
John Lydon,
X-102,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
The Misunderstood,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eric Copeland,
Ohio Players,
Lakeside,
Joyce Sims,
Fat Boys,
The Selecter,
Technova,
Harpers Bizarre,
Intrusion,
New York Dolls,
Fad Gadget,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.