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 Singapore and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Donald Fagen 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 Traffic Nightmare to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Newcleus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Brick,
Easy Going,
Television Personalities,
Reuben Wilson,
Lakeside,
Fear,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jacob Miller,
Theoretical Girls,
Surgeon,
Fifty Foot Hose,
MC5,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wally Richardson,
Gong,
The Index,
Archie Shepp,
Grey Daturas,
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joensuu 1685,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cheater Slicks,
John Foxx,
Lindisfarne,
The Dead C,
Erasure,
Faraquet,
The Move,
The Sound,
the Soft Cell,
Bauhaus,
X-101,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Animal Collective,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
Schoolly D,
John Holt,
Television,
DNA,
The Grass Roots,
Ken Boothe,
Drexciya,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.