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 Mauritius and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Amon Düül II to the techno 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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Joensuu 1685 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Scion,
Section 25,
The Residents,
Aloha Tigers,
The Red Krayola,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
Livin' Joy,
Joe Finger,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Selecter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rekid,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Underground Resistance,
Radio Birdman,
Dawn Penn,
T.S.O.L.,
Lucky Dragons,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jacob Miller,
Laurel Aitken,
The Pretty Things,
Visage,
The Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Man Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
A Certain Ratio,
Jerry's Kids,
Peter and Kerry,
Roger Hodgson,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Henry Cow,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scott Walker,
Technova,
Skaos,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultravox,
the Human League,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Dark Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sister Nancy,
The Remains,
ABBA,
UT,
Sonny Sharrock,
Alice Coltrane,
Bush Tetras,
David Axelrod,
Cameo,
Wasted Youth,
Moby Grape,
Nils Olav,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.