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 Bangladesh and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 DJ Style to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Cameo,
The Tremeloes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grandmaster Flash,
Max Romeo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Duran Duran,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The United States of America,
Hot Snakes,
Minny Pops,
Quadrant,
Drexciya,
The Modern Lovers,
Gichy Dan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Barbara Tucker,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lyres,
Lucky Dragons,
The Associates,
Depeche Mode,
The Buckinghams,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Anakelly,
the Fania All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
Piero Umiliani,
Leonard Cohen,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Germs,
Sight & Sound,
The Vogues,
Can,
Pet Shop Boys,
Man Parrish,
Bobby Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Thee Headcoats,
KRS-One,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ultimate Spinach,
MDC,
Index,
Henry Cow,
Liliput,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Marmalade,
Radiohead,
Wolf Eyes,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Martian,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.