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 India and from Sao Paulo.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Real Kids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Bar-Kays,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang Starr,
Babytalk,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Infiniti,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cramps,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Germs,
Ronnie Foster,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ken Boothe,
Bang On A Can,
Livin' Joy,
The Buckinghams,
DNA,
Danielle Patucci,
Visage,
Kool Moe Dee,
Isaac Hayes,
Nico,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Derrick May,
Terry Callier,
Roger Hodgson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Banda Bassotti,
Eli Mardock,
Johnny Clarke,
Saccharine Trust,
Radiohead,
Das Ding,
Glenn Branca,
Severed Heads,
FM Einheit,
Dawn Penn,
Wings,
Don Cherry,
Kayak,
the Association,
David Bowie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Joey Negro,
Jeff Mills,
Monolake,
MDC,
Dark Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fatback Band,
Siglo XX,
DJ Style,
New Age Steppers,
Massinfluence,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fire Engines,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.