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 Tonga 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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Philadelphia.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Cabaret Voltaire to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Mark Hollis,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Pantaleimon,
Dark Day,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
FM Einheit,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moebius,
Vladislav Delay,
X-102,
Frankie Knuckles,
Terry Callier,
B.T. Express,
Cal Tjader,
Youth Brigade,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Avey Tare,
Mission of Burma,
Jeff Lynne,
Quadrant,
Maleditus Sound,
Fat Boys,
EPMD,
Sun Ra,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Last Poets,
Visage,
Saccharine Trust,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
H. Thieme,
Chrome,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
Yellowson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Scott Walker,
Interpol,
The Zeros,
MDC,
The Flesh Eaters,
Babytalk,
Boz Scaggs,
The Dead C,
Icehouse,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jawbox,
Fatback Band,
Deadbeat,
Davy DMX,
Young Marble Giants,
Bill Near,
Scrapy,
Robert Görl,
Cameo,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.