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 Canada and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Japan,
Al Stewart,
The Busters,
In Retrospect,
Spandau Ballet,
Buzzcocks,
Negative Approach,
Peter & Gordon,
Kerri Chandler,
Reagan Youth,
Bobby Byrd,
Wolf Eyes,
Marvin Gaye,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fugazi,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
Swell Maps,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Simply Red,
Isaac Hayes,
The Dead C,
Wally Richardson,
Patti Smith,
Joe Finger,
Ponytail,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
Gabor Szabo,
Bush Tetras,
Tommy Roe,
Visage,
La Düsseldorf,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Drexciya,
Rhythm & Sound,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
Con Funk Shun,
The Knickerbockers,
Camouflage,
The Evens,
Thompson Twins,
Joensuu 1685,
The American Breed,
Symarip,
Unrelated Segments,
Barry Ungar,
The Fire Engines,
Depeche Mode,
Rod Modell,
AZ,
Aloha Tigers,
Cluster,
Brass Construction,
MC5,
Suburban Knight,
Blancmange,
Au Pairs,
Massinfluence,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.