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 Rwanda and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Deepchord tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nik Kershaw 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Marshall Jefferson,
K-Klass,
B.T. Express,
Mantronix,
Joensuu 1685,
June Days,
the Soft Cell,
New Age Steppers,
Banda Bassotti,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Crime,
The Pop Group,
Essential Logic,
Lucky Dragons,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Pantaleimon,
Man Parrish,
Joyce Sims,
This Heat,
James White and The Blacks,
Scientists,
Bill Wells,
the Fania All-Stars,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chris & Cosey,
Ultimate Spinach,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
Carl Craig,
Tropical Tobacco,
Con Funk Shun,
Television,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Massinfluence,
Main Source,
Ken Boothe,
Sonic Youth,
Subhumans,
Warren Ellis,
The Barracudas,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
The Birthday Party,
The Real Kids,
Babytalk,
Morten Harket,
Gong,
Dead Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wire,
Ossler,
Sparks,
The Last Poets,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ronan,
Newcleus,
Nils Olav,
Dark Day,
Make Up,
Cluster,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.