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 Peru and from Shanghai.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Roxette to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiohead,
D'Angelo,
Black Sheep,
Pole,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sight & Sound,
OOIOO,
Joy Division,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Fatback Band,
Underground Resistance,
Severed Heads,
Lebanon Hanover,
Yusef Lateef,
Glenn Branca,
Blossom Toes,
Freddie Wadling,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tubeway Army,
Goldenarms,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anthony Braxton,
The Music Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra,
The Neon Judgement,
Maurizio,
Quando Quango,
Boredoms,
Camberwell Now,
Harmonia,
Joensuu 1685,
Cybotron,
Crime,
Index,
Graham Central Station,
Thompson Twins,
Talk Talk,
Cecil Taylor,
Lakeside,
One Last Wish,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Stetsasonic,
DNA,
Matthew Halsall,
Tim Buckley,
John Lydon,
Reagan Youth,
The Vogues,
Joyce Sims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Tres Demented,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Carl Craig,
the Human League,
Janne Schatter,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.