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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 linndrum 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 Flamin' Groovies to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Mantronix tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Arcadia,
Marc Almond,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heaven 17,
The Searchers,
Roy Ayers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Dead C,
Jeff Mills,
Loose Ends,
John Holt,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June Days,
Chrome,
The American Breed,
In Retrospect,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boz Scaggs,
Eden Ahbez,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
New Order,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alison Limerick,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Flipper,
Kurtis Blow,
PIL,
Matthew Halsall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Los Fastidios,
Newcleus,
the Swans,
This Heat,
The Real Kids,
Popol Vuh,
Nick Fraelich,
The Young Rascals,
One Last Wish,
David Bowie,
Silicon Teens,
Camouflage,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pylon,
Ken Boothe,
Urselle,
Robert Hood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gories,
Graham Central Station,
the Normal,
Rotary Connection,
Liliput,
Joyce Sims,
Hasil Adkins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sight & Sound,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.