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 Nepal and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Stetsasonic to the techno 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 Gang of Four. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Terrestrial Tones,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fluxion,
The Slits,
The Victims,
New York Dolls,
Unrelated Segments,
Don Cherry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eden Ahbez,
The Associates,
Deadbeat,
David Axelrod,
The Buckinghams,
The Happenings,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Gil Scott Heron,
Urselle,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bootsy Collins,
U.S. Maple,
Rapeman,
Throbbing Gristle,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Scientists,
Bizarre Inc.,
Franke,
World's Most,
The Fire Engines,
The Moleskins,
Stetsasonic,
Yazoo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Gladiators,
Interpol,
Yellowson,
Drexciya,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Negative Approach,
The Sonics,
Morten Harket,
Sam Rivers,
Tim Buckley,
Royal Trux,
Vainqueur,
Lou Reed,
Cecil Taylor,
R.M.O.,
Marine Girls,
Ossler,
Monks,
Blake Baxter,
Circle Jerks,
Matthew Halsall,
Gichy Dan,
David McCallum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.