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 Liechtenstein and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Minor Threat to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Technova 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 techno 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
Slave,
Donald Byrd,
Al Stewart,
Peter and Kerry,
U.S. Maple,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minor Threat,
Cameo,
Echospace,
The Litter,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra,
Brothers Johnson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Young Marble Giants,
Model 500,
Jerry Gold Smith,
David McCallum,
Grauzone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Man Eating Sloth,
Pharoah Sanders,
These Immortal Souls,
Roxette,
Jawbox,
R.M.O.,
The Associates,
The Modern Lovers,
The Wake,
Barrington Levy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
Ponytail,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Skriet,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rufus Thomas,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Sheep,
Sister Nancy,
Warsaw,
Gang Green,
Hardrive,
The Star Department,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
Black Bananas,
Robert Hood,
Yellowson,
Mission of Burma,
Television,
The Divine Comedy,
Sandy B,
Visage,
The Evens,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.