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 Venezuela and from Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the disco 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dave Gahan,
Tim Buckley,
Rufus Thomas,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bob Dylan,
Matthew Halsall,
Steve Hackett,
Lightning Bolt,
Arcadia,
Black Sheep,
Tom Boy,
PIL,
Trumans Water,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Sonics,
Parry Music,
Ponytail,
Frankie Knuckles,
OOIOO,
Roger Hodgson,
Essential Logic,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Interpol,
The Busters,
Black Bananas,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quando Quango,
T. Rex,
The Happenings,
The Music Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jerry's Kids,
Gang Green,
The Associates,
Bobby Womack,
Television,
Lalann,
The Residents,
Kurtis Blow,
Visage,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kevin Saunderson,
Dawn Penn,
Talk Talk,
Fela Kuti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The United States of America,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Depeche Mode,
Archie Shepp,
Intrusion,
Amon Düül II,
John Cale,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.