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 Cameroon and from Spokane.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Drexciya to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
Fifty Foot Hose,
New Order,
a-ha,
U.S. Maple,
Tomorrow,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Tommy Roe,
The Mummies,
T. Rex,
Cecil Taylor,
Eric B and Rakim,
Byron Stingily,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed,
Y Pants,
Sparks,
Harmonia,
The Wake,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Agitation Free,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bootsy Collins,
Spandau Ballet,
Joensuu 1685,
Young Marble Giants,
Stetsasonic,
Brick,
Henry Cow,
Toni Rubio,
Jacques Brel,
World's Most,
Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Supertramp,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Q65,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bush Tetras,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Panda Bear,
Glenn Branca,
The Star Department,
Sexual Harrassment,
Michelle Simonal,
Nas,
Quantec,
UT,
The Stooges,
Hashim,
Babytalk,
F. McDonald,
Tubeway Army,
Barclay James Harvest,
Siglo XX,
Wolf Eyes,
Neil Young,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Robert Görl,
Tres Demented,
Marine Girls,
E-Dancer,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.