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 Brunei and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 synthesizer 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 The Grass Roots to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Young Rascals,
DJ Style,
The Skatalites,
Chrome,
Sonny Sharrock,
Hasil Adkins,
Reuben Wilson,
ABC,
Thee Headcoats,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smiths,
The Gories,
The Gladiators,
Oblivians,
Derrick May,
The Seeds,
The Happenings,
Jacques Brel,
Boogie Down Productions,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lungfish,
Niagra,
The Names,
Black Bananas,
The Kinks,
The Gun Club,
The Standells,
Amazonics,
Maurizio,
Marine Girls,
Grey Daturas,
Half Japanese,
Deakin,
Pierre Henry,
The Misunderstood,
Icehouse,
the Bar-Kays,
Brand Nubian,
The Busters,
The Moleskins,
Prince Buster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Harry Pussy,
Main Source,
KRS-One,
The Pretty Things,
Oneida,
Kool Moe Dee,
Negative Approach,
Television,
The Move,
Nico,
Loose Ends,
Make Up,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The United States of America,
Royal Trux,
Clear Light,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.