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 Portugal and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bluetip to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Grauzone. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moody Blues record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
David McCallum,
Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
Bronski Beat,
Jacob Miller,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
La Düsseldorf,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pretty Things,
Matthew Bourne,
The Barracudas,
Tropical Tobacco,
Slick Rick,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mantronix,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lungfish,
Barbara Tucker,
The Human League,
Albert Ayler,
Eli Mardock,
Skarface,
Thee Headcoats,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Cybotron,
Cecil Taylor,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
Steve Hackett,
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
The Walker Brothers,
David Axelrod,
The Residents,
Pussy Galore,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
New Order,
Lower 48,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Das Ding,
The Standells,
Livin' Joy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Japan,
Easy Going,
Jandek,
Deepchord,
Smog,
Black Flag,
Whodini,
David Bowie,
Archie Shepp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Peter & Gordon,
Symarip,
Yaz,
Eric B and Rakim,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.