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 Comoros and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gabor Szabo to the punk 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Swell Maps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Pylon,
Crooked Eye,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sixth Finger,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sister Nancy,
Anakelly,
Lalann,
Oblivians,
Barrington Levy,
Ronan,
Mission of Burma,
Underground Resistance,
Mo-Dettes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Wings,
FM Einheit,
Cecil Taylor,
The Cowsills,
The Invisible,
The Cramps,
Minny Pops,
World's Most,
Section 25,
Vladislav Delay,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pierre Henry,
These Immortal Souls,
David McCallum,
Mark Hollis,
The Human League,
Cymande,
David Axelrod,
Jandek,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
China Crisis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Darondo,
Quantec,
Brick,
Sarah Menescal,
Unrelated Segments,
Derrick May,
The Grass Roots,
Angry Samoans,
Sound Behaviour,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
In Retrospect,
June of 44,
ABBA,
Country Teasers,
Bush Tetras,
Dave Gahan,
Ultravox,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.