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 Austria and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 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 World's Most to the dance 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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
PIL,
10cc,
The Knickerbockers,
Jacob Miller,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
Index,
Das Ding,
Crime,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Eurythmics,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pagans,
Lucky Dragons,
Excepter,
Crash Course in Science,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Echospace,
Tim Buckley,
Smog,
Harry Pussy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Moby Grape,
Erasure,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tom Boy,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Blossom Toes,
Unwound,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Slackers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Names,
The Five Americans,
Jawbox,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Normal,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Fugs,
Von Mondo,
John Foxx,
Michelle Simonal,
Rod Modell,
The Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers,
Tubeway Army,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ituana,
Jeff Mills,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Parrish,
Morten Harket,
The Moody Blues,
the Sonics,
Audionom,
Skaos,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.