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 Equatorial Guinea and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Holger Czukay 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 Dual Sessions 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Joensuu 1685,
Godley & Creme,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jacob Miller,
Freddie Wadling,
B.T. Express,
Arthur Verocai,
Jimmy McGriff,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Soft Cell,
Mandrill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
The Fuzztones,
Albert Ayler,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eden Ahbez,
The Dirtbombs,
Grey Daturas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ultra Naté,
Sonic Youth,
Skaos,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang Green,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
Agitation Free,
Black Sheep,
The Beau Brummels,
Q65,
Warsaw,
The Fortunes,
ABBA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed,
Rakim,
Basic Channel,
Au Pairs,
Clear Light,
Prince Buster,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Monks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sound Behaviour,
Wings,
Idris Muhammad,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Anthony Braxton,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smoke,
EPMD,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jesper Dahlback,
Boz Scaggs,
The Star Department,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.