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 Lille.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 These Immortal Souls to the jazz 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Technova,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Skriet,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Hood,
Amazonics,
Schoolly D,
Ten City,
The Offenders,
cv313,
Desert Stars,
X-Ray Spex,
David Axelrod,
Todd Rundgren,
Faust,
Mission of Burma,
Unrelated Segments,
The New Christs,
Joyce Sims,
Morten Harket,
The Modern Lovers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moleskins,
Alton Ellis,
Stetsasonic,
Deadbeat,
Pole,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
Todd Terry,
Ornette Coleman,
X-101,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Subhumans,
The Invisible,
Tommy Roe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bill Near,
Hoover,
48th St. Collective,
The Wake,
Gong,
Fat Boys,
Arthur Verocai,
Rites of Spring,
The Trojans,
The Monks,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Harry Pussy,
Youth Brigade,
The Music Machine,
The Flesh Eaters,
Underground Resistance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Moody Blues,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.