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 Cyprus and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Magma to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shoche 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
Smog,
Pantytec,
Lucky Dragons,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Icehouse,
The Gun Club,
Skriet,
the Human League,
The Birthday Party,
The Raincoats,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Stiv Bators,
Dennis Brown,
Sugar Minott,
Alice Coltrane,
New Order,
Theoretical Girls,
F. McDonald,
Mandrill,
the Association,
Stetsasonic,
Sandy B,
Juan Atkins,
Con Funk Shun,
The Black Dice,
Cecil Taylor,
Adolescents,
Groovy Waters,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Laurel Aitken,
Grauzone,
Electric Prunes,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Human League,
Royal Trux,
Pulsallama,
Sex Pistols,
Lalann,
Donald Byrd,
Procol Harum,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tropical Tobacco,
Anthony Braxton,
Neil Young,
Tommy Roe,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hot Snakes,
Joy Division,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Model 500,
The J.B.'s,
Man Eating Sloth,
Josef K,
Graham Central Station,
Harry Pussy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.