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 Guinea and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum 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 the Sonics to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bronski Beat. All the underground hits.
All ABC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Martian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Searchers,
Blossom Toes,
Andrew Hill,
Das Ding,
Technova,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alison Limerick,
the Human League,
10cc,
Drive Like Jehu,
Isaac Hayes,
Kayak,
Yusef Lateef,
Bob Dylan,
Sight & Sound,
Faraquet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Al Stewart,
The Residents,
The Beau Brummels,
Bluetip,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swans,
Gichy Dan,
Shoche,
Au Pairs,
Excepter,
Scan 7,
Henry Cow,
Barbara Tucker,
Cluster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arcadia,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Move,
Franke,
Fela Kuti,
Parry Music,
Chris & Cosey,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
Toni Rubio,
Matthew Bourne,
Sex Pistols,
T.S.O.L.,
Masters at Work,
X-102,
Nico,
Marmalade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rakim,
Harmonia,
The Slackers,
Black Moon,
Skaos,
Connie Case,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.