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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Todd Terry to the grunge 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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalo Schifrin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Derrick Morgan,
Hoover,
Lyres,
Marine Girls,
Susan Cadogan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nico,
Bobby Womack,
The Gories,
Wire,
JFA,
Marvin Gaye,
Dead Boys,
Wally Richardson,
Jawbox,
Grauzone,
Average White Band,
The Index,
Ponytail,
Boz Scaggs,
Echospace,
Joe Finger,
Warsaw,
Don Cherry,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scott Walker,
L. Decosne,
Country Teasers,
Aswad,
Prince Buster,
Al Stewart,
Rosa Yemen,
Maleditus Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Hardrive,
Schoolly D,
Skaos,
Pussy Galore,
the Soft Cell,
Scrapy,
The Red Krayola,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Moebius,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ohio Players,
The Grass Roots,
Colin Newman,
Davy DMX,
Scratch Acid,
Essential Logic,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
Malaria!,
Neu!,
Suburban Knight,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Hashim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.