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 Chad and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Man Eating Sloth to the punk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
The Neon Judgement,
The Invisible,
Zapp,
The Five Americans,
Ultra Naté,
Popol Vuh,
Funky Four + One,
Wally Richardson,
Morten Harket,
Gastr Del Sol,
OOIOO,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Angels of Light,
Vladislav Delay,
Jawbox,
Index,
Lucky Dragons,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Index,
Average White Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Ituana,
The Offenders,
Crispy Ambulance,
K-Klass,
Pantaleimon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Mission of Burma,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
Jacques Brel,
The Smoke,
Pylon,
Chrome,
Thompson Twins,
Brass Construction,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cheater Slicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mr. Review,
Skarface,
The Walker Brothers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sun Ra,
Dead Boys,
New Order,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Brothers Johnson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.