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 Lesotho and from Edmonton.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Erykah Badu to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Quantec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four,
The Sound,
T. Rex,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
Roy Ayers,
Niagra,
Sex Pistols,
Kas Product,
The Fortunes,
Toni Rubio,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gun Club,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Slits,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Normal,
ABC,
Joe Smooth,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pulsallama,
The Mojo Men,
Livin' Joy,
Lyres,
Country Teasers,
Bob Dylan,
Scrapy,
Whodini,
JFA,
Crooked Eye,
Sixth Finger,
The Remains,
Godley & Creme,
Interpol,
Bill Near,
The Wake,
Kayak,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bluetip,
New Age Steppers,
Nico,
In Retrospect,
Das Ding,
Flash Fearless,
Vladislav Delay,
Johnny Osbourne,
L. Decosne,
Colin Newman,
Minutemen,
The Durutti Column,
Cymande,
Hashim,
Sam Rivers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
This Heat,
The Standells,
Sonny Sharrock,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.