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 Ivory Coast and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the rap 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 Magma. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Yazoo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deakin,
Lungfish,
E-Dancer,
Slave,
Index,
Radio Birdman,
Mark Hollis,
New Age Steppers,
Black Flag,
the Slits,
The Techniques,
Minor Threat,
the Soft Cell,
Blake Baxter,
Nas,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ronnie Foster,
John Holt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Y Pants,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harmonia,
the Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Prince Buster,
The Birthday Party,
Unwound,
Isaac Hayes,
Lalann,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Skriet,
Thee Headcoats,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cowsills,
Man Eating Sloth,
DJ Style,
Jesper Dahlback,
Desert Stars,
T. Rex,
Nation of Ulysses,
Warren Ellis,
Kurtis Blow,
The Tremeloes,
Stereo Dub,
The Human League,
John Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Aural Exciters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Robert Hood,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Carl Craig,
Oneida,
Patti Smith,
The Detroit Cobras,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.