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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Blancmange 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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Juan Atkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Cheater Slicks,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
Spoonie Gee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Silicon Teens,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Tears for Fears,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick May,
ABC,
Zapp,
The Litter,
The Fire Engines,
Scrapy,
The Walker Brothers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultra Naté,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Audionom,
Pharoah Sanders,
DJ Style,
The Remains,
Swans,
Boredoms,
Warsaw,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Brass Construction,
The Grass Roots,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Newcleus,
The Modern Lovers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Harmonia,
Negative Approach,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bad Manners,
The Electric Prunes,
Rites of Spring,
Urselle,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Beau Brummels,
Underground Resistance,
Organ,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Wolf Eyes,
These Immortal Souls,
Amon Düül,
Gang of Four,
KRS-One,
Brothers Johnson,
Smog,
Ronnie Foster,
the Swans,
Gang Starr,
Roger Hodgson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.