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 Thailand and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Black Bananas to the jazz 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visage 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
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,
The Dirtbombs,
Index,
Johnny Clarke,
Lungfish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Qualms,
X-102,
Kaleidoscope,
Radiohead,
The Pop Group,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Wake,
Duran Duran,
Morten Harket,
June of 44,
Jacques Brel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Excepter,
Carl Craig,
Girls At Our Best!,
Grauzone,
Swans,
Ponytail,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Cluster,
Crime,
Black Bananas,
Junior Murvin,
Cybotron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Franke,
Jeff Mills,
Ken Boothe,
Prince Buster,
Hardrive,
Vainqueur,
Ultravox,
Mo-Dettes,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Divine Comedy,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
Matthew Bourne,
Procol Harum,
Aural Exciters,
Brand Nubian,
Charles Mingus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Technova,
James White and The Blacks,
Boz Scaggs,
Clear Light,
Al Stewart,
Von Mondo,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wolf Eyes,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.