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 Liberia and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Wolf Eyes to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Supertramp,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Mars,
Dawn Penn,
Howard Jones,
Reagan Youth,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
ABC,
The Associates,
Magma,
The Slits,
Roy Ayers,
The Dead C,
Brothers Johnson,
Goldenarms,
Crash Course in Science,
The Neon Judgement,
The Star Department,
the Soft Cell,
Beasts of Bourbon,
EPMD,
Subhumans,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Judy Mowatt,
Sight & Sound,
Hot Snakes,
Lightning Bolt,
Soft Machine,
Grey Daturas,
Quando Quango,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mr. Review,
Panda Bear,
Tropical Tobacco,
Nik Kershaw,
Joey Negro,
Colin Newman,
Roger Hodgson,
DNA,
Sam Rivers,
Rotary Connection,
Q and Not U,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Crooked Eye,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Japan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Neu!,
The Selecter,
New York Dolls,
Davy DMX,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Second Layer,
K-Klass,
The Techniques,
Flash Fearless,
Motorama,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.