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 Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Derrick Morgan to the techno 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 The Standells. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Public Image Ltd.,
Whodini,
Fat Boys,
Pierre Henry,
Negative Approach,
Maurizio,
A Certain Ratio,
Alison Limerick,
Rakim,
Blake Baxter,
Carl Craig,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Jeff Lynne,
The Dead C,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crispy Ambulance,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sparks,
Johnny Clarke,
Little Man,
Monolake,
Malaria!,
Simply Red,
Sarah Menescal,
Yusef Lateef,
Stetsasonic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Model 500,
Tears for Fears,
Vladislav Delay,
Fear,
The Dirtbombs,
The Standells,
New Order,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Black Sheep,
Supertramp,
Archie Shepp,
Fad Gadget,
Interpol,
The Shadows of Knight,
Al Stewart,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Q and Not U,
The Grass Roots,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Dorothy Ashby,
Toni Rubio,
Danielle Patucci,
The Saints,
Mad Mike,
Section 25,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rekid,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.