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 Brunei and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the sitar 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 a-ha to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Foxx,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Gang Dance,
Archie Shepp,
X-101,
The Detroit Cobras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
Icehouse,
Liliput,
Marvin Gaye,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Scan 7,
Sixth Finger,
Soul Sonic Force,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Little Man,
Charles Mingus,
The Trojans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Banda Bassotti,
Max Romeo,
Model 500,
Aural Exciters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Nico,
Hoover,
The Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Offenders,
the Slits,
Girls At Our Best!,
Johnny Osbourne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Cramps,
Roger Hodgson,
Tim Buckley,
Ronnie Foster,
Funkadelic,
Frankie Knuckles,
John Coltrane,
Altered Images,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Womack,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rosa Yemen,
D'Angelo,
Pantytec,
Depeche Mode,
Public Enemy,
Yaz,
Bronski Beat,
Pylon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Robert Hood,
DJ Style,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.