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 Chad and from Tehran.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Soft Cell to the techno 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Warren Ellis,
The Golliwogs,
Darondo,
Hashim,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
John Cale,
Pantytec,
Glenn Branca,
Brothers Johnson,
Popol Vuh,
Minutemen,
Tears for Fears,
CMW,
Roxette,
The Kinks,
Funky Four + One,
Moebius,
Vladislav Delay,
U.S. Maple,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Magma,
Yusef Lateef,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pagans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Slave,
La Düsseldorf,
The Motions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Mo-Dettes,
Cal Tjader,
Yellowson,
Quadrant,
Faraquet,
Thompson Twins,
Duran Duran,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unrelated Segments,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drexciya,
Sight & Sound,
The Victims,
Pylon,
The Trojans,
These Immortal Souls,
The Real Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Liliput,
The Moleskins,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Traffic Nightmare,
Prince Buster,
John Lydon,
Lou Christie,
EPMD,
The Happenings,
Erykah Badu,
The Martian,
Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders, Outsiders.
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.