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 Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 The Dead C to the rap 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
The Durutti Column,
Josef K,
Metal Thangz,
Max Romeo,
Roxette,
Groovy Waters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yazoo,
Brick,
The Busters,
The Cure,
Joensuu 1685,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
AZ,
Fatback Band,
Lungfish,
the Slits,
Grandmaster Flash,
Interpol,
Con Funk Shun,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Beau Brummels,
Barbara Tucker,
Barclay James Harvest,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sandy B,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slick Rick,
The Residents,
Babytalk,
Gong,
Visage,
Electric Prunes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Matthew Halsall,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jandek,
Lou Christie,
Aaron Thompson,
The Moody Blues,
kango's stein massive,
Kaleidoscope,
Crash Course in Science,
The Stooges,
These Immortal Souls,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
Swell Maps,
Colin Newman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Adolescents,
Moss Icon,
Black Sheep,
Oneida,
Kurtis Blow,
The Standells,
Lucky Dragons,
Make Up,
Mad Mike,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.