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 Libya and from Lille.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pet Shop Boys to the punk 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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nas,
John Foxx,
The Fall,
Flipper,
Qualms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hashim,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Porter Ricks,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
48th St. Collective,
The Moleskins,
The Motions,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Faraquet,
Delon & Dalcan,
X-102,
Todd Rundgren,
Shoche,
Alton Ellis,
the Soft Cell,
Dave Gahan,
Roxette,
Drive Like Jehu,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Trojans,
Althea and Donna,
Fear,
June of 44,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Gang Dance,
Newcleus,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Sound,
Dark Day,
AZ,
Kerrie Biddell,
Drexciya,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brick,
Sugar Minott,
The Skatalites,
Nils Olav,
Depeche Mode,
Darondo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Urselle,
Circle Jerks,
Bad Manners,
The Last Poets,
Todd Terry,
Skaos,
The Toasters,
Albert Ayler,
The Kinks,
Big Daddy Kane,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Slave,
The Litter,
The Black Dice,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.