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 New Zealand and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tres Demented to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ossler,
Scott Walker,
Youth Brigade,
Flipper,
Bauhaus,
The Busters,
Cybotron,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sixth Finger,
Todd Terry,
Thee Headcoats,
The Motions,
Bill Wells,
Basic Channel,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
Gong,
Banda Bassotti,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Crooked Eye,
Marc Almond,
Colin Newman,
Urselle,
Chris & Cosey,
JFA,
Symarip,
Crash Course in Science,
Section 25,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eli Mardock,
Thompson Twins,
Susan Cadogan,
The Fugs,
Sandy B,
Jeff Mills,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
Junior Murvin,
John Foxx,
48th St. Collective,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Birthday Party,
Stockholm Monsters,
Zero Boys,
Sparks,
The Move,
K-Klass,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
Smog,
Max Romeo,
Maurizio,
UT,
Darondo,
This Heat,
Howard Jones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Morten Harket,
Andrew Hill,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.