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 Macedonia and from Cairo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gang Starr to the grunge 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sister Nancy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Dual Sessions,
The Smoke,
Monolake,
Scott Walker,
Morten Harket,
Roy Ayers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Holt,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Zapp,
Crispian St. Peters,
Donald Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
The Red Krayola,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
The Dead C,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Pop Group,
Crash Course in Science,
Ituana,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echospace,
Cameo,
D'Angelo,
Jeff Mills,
Bush Tetras,
Skaos,
Terry Callier,
Suicide,
Barbara Tucker,
Bauhaus,
Lightning Bolt,
Q65,
The Gladiators,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Chrome,
Todd Terry,
Magma,
U.S. Maple,
John Coltrane,
Gang Starr,
Man Parrish,
Mad Mike,
Blossom Toes,
Maurizio,
The Victims,
Jacques Brel,
Outsiders,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Boredoms,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tommy Roe,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Almond,
Neu!,
Dave Gahan,
Drexciya,
Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones, Howard Jones.
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.