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 Tanzania and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Misunderstood,
Juan Atkins,
Derrick May,
Monolake,
Blancmange,
ABC,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sällskapet,
Clear Light,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Moleskins,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
Severed Heads,
The Sonics,
The Remains,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cowsills,
Pole,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
Heaven 17,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Agent Orange,
Sex Pistols,
The Techniques,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Terry Callier,
The Last Poets,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
Boredoms,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sun Ra,
Crash Course in Science,
Camouflage,
The Dirtbombs,
John Holt,
The Human League,
Cameo,
Thompson Twins,
Oneida,
Morten Harket,
Rakim,
Rosa Yemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
cv313,
Alison Limerick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Section 25,
Deepchord,
Tears for Fears,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Flash Fearless,
Brand Nubian,
The Dead C,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.