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 Turkmenistan and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angry Samoans to the techno 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sexual Harrassment,
Siglo XX,
Subhumans,
The Selecter,
Livin' Joy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Roxy Music,
Interpol,
Bizarre Inc.,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls,
Funkadelic,
The Motions,
Parry Music,
Scott Walker,
Derrick Morgan,
Young Marble Giants,
Man Parrish,
Robert Hood,
Angry Samoans,
Oneida,
Pole,
Brick,
Eric B and Rakim,
Peter and Kerry,
The Toasters,
John Lydon,
the Association,
Rites of Spring,
Archie Shepp,
Pantytec,
ABBA,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
Freddie Wadling,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boredoms,
Sound Behaviour,
Wolf Eyes,
Popol Vuh,
Joyce Sims,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Happenings,
The New Christs,
Chris Corsano,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Goldenarms,
Aural Exciters,
Guru Guru,
Absolute Body Control,
Radio Birdman,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terry Callier,
The Raincoats,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.