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 Mozambique and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bush Tetras to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Wire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Index record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
The Names,
Steve Hackett,
The Slackers,
Howard Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Model 500,
Simply Red,
Severed Heads,
Guru Guru,
R.M.O.,
Ronnie Foster,
The Black Dice,
Graham Central Station,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
T.S.O.L.,
Hashim,
Funkadelic,
Yazoo,
Aaron Thompson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Swans,
Jandek,
Crooked Eye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Henry Cow,
H. Thieme,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Neil Young,
Wings,
Main Source,
New York Dolls,
Amon Düül II,
Black Sheep,
Intrusion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Hoover,
The Smiths,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dead C,
Janne Schatter,
Davy DMX,
The Gladiators,
In Retrospect,
Unwound,
Glenn Branca,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Beau Brummels,
Procol Harum,
Marmalade,
Soft Machine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
KRS-One,
Jeff Lynne,
The American Breed,
The Birthday Party,
L. Decosne,
Absolute Body Control,
Warren Ellis,
Eden Ahbez,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.