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 Nauru and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 OOIOO to the electroclash 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Pere Ubu,
Yellowson,
Crime,
Pantytec,
The Residents,
Roxy Music,
D'Angelo,
Reuben Wilson,
Barry Ungar,
Steve Hackett,
London Community Gospel Choir,
T.S.O.L.,
Alphaville,
Buzzcocks,
Crash Course in Science,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Young Rascals,
Jerry's Kids,
Al Stewart,
Josef K,
The Martian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stiv Bators,
The Count Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
These Immortal Souls,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Five Americans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Piero Umiliani,
Gang of Four,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dark Day,
Electric Prunes,
Joensuu 1685,
Morten Harket,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Faraquet,
Tommy Roe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Section 25,
cv313,
Suburban Knight,
Basic Channel,
Subhumans,
Althea and Donna,
The Move,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Desert Stars,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
Agent Orange,
Ultra Naté,
This Heat,
The Mummies,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Unwound,
the Normal,
Nik Kershaw,
Sällskapet,
The Misunderstood,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.