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 Niger and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Byron Stingily 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band 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?
Monks,
Maleditus Sound,
Popol Vuh,
Dave Gahan,
Bush Tetras,
KRS-One,
Gang of Four,
The Divine Comedy,
Brass Construction,
DJ Sneak,
Fatback Band,
Pussy Galore,
Absolute Body Control,
Hoover,
Fifty Foot Hose,
B.T. Express,
Sun City Girls,
Eric Dolphy,
Hot Snakes,
Todd Terry,
Scrapy,
Nik Kershaw,
The Young Rascals,
Quadrant,
Throbbing Gristle,
FM Einheit,
Saccharine Trust,
Pagans,
Eli Mardock,
Robert Wyatt,
Ponytail,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bill Near,
Das Ding,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Graham Central Station,
The Slackers,
The Human League,
Camberwell Now,
Alphaville,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Electric Prunes,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
The Dead C,
Crooked Eye,
Malaria!,
The Count Five,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Angry Samoans,
Goldenarms,
The Wake,
Loose Ends,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Normal,
Tommy Roe,
Sam Rivers,
Darondo,
Shoche,
Jeff Mills,
Johnny Clarke,
Fluxion,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.