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 Bahamas and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Juan Atkins to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Morten Harket 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
The Walker Brothers,
The Buckinghams,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Agent Orange,
The Motions,
Au Pairs,
James White and The Blacks,
Wire,
Marine Girls,
The Toasters,
Gang Gang Dance,
Underground Resistance,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crispy Ambulance,
Massinfluence,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Vladislav Delay,
Urselle,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Grass Roots,
Derrick Morgan,
Khruangbin,
Ohio Players,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Japan,
Sun City Girls,
These Immortal Souls,
Bobby Womack,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Neon Judgement,
Ituana,
Matthew Bourne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Danielle Patucci,
Metal Thangz,
The Evens,
John Lydon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispian St. Peters,
Steve Hackett,
Piero Umiliani,
Mandrill,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Moon,
The Skatalites,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Banda Bassotti,
10cc,
Newcleus,
Make Up,
The Move,
The Beau Brummels,
Royal Trux,
Rufus Thomas,
Mark Hollis,
Bronski Beat,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lakeside,
The Star Department,
Index,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.