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 Malta 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Joyce Sims to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pere Ubu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Moss Icon,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gang of Four,
Pagans,
Blake Baxter,
Desert Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
Matthew Bourne,
Ornette Coleman,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantytec,
MDC,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Avey Tare,
The J.B.'s,
The Golliwogs,
Arab on Radar,
The Barracudas,
Lou Reed,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June Days,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Robert Görl,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
DJ Style,
Radiohead,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jesper Dahlback,
D'Angelo,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Juan Atkins,
Blancmange,
Todd Terry,
Intrusion,
Monks,
Alice Coltrane,
Barbara Tucker,
Dead Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
Spoonie Gee,
Slave,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Warsaw,
Pulsallama,
Jandek,
The Alarm Clocks,
Terry Callier,
Sound Behaviour,
The Modern Lovers,
The Angels of Light,
Deepchord,
Sällskapet,
The Blues Magoos,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Con Funk Shun,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.