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 San Marino and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 marimba 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 Mr. Review to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Index,
Inner City,
Nico,
Graham Central Station,
Frankie Knuckles,
Swell Maps,
UT,
The Invisible,
The Cramps,
the Soft Cell,
Banda Bassotti,
10cc,
Gregory Isaacs,
Q and Not U,
Pylon,
Cal Tjader,
Dead Boys,
Pole,
T. Rex,
Faust,
Matthew Bourne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Urselle,
Crispy Ambulance,
Infiniti,
Echospace,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Little Man,
Yaz,
The Real Kids,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
Fela Kuti,
Al Stewart,
Royal Trux,
Oblivians,
Malaria!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
MC5,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Kinks,
Sugar Minott,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Scion,
EPMD,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Germs,
Gang Green,
Brick,
Idris Muhammad,
The Velvet Underground,
Von Mondo,
Curtis Mayfield,
kango's stein massive,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.