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 Gabon and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 harpsichord 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All DNA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
Sight & Sound,
Adolescents,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mo-Dettes,
New York Dolls,
The Real Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Half Japanese,
Suicide,
Kaleidoscope,
Isaac Hayes,
In Retrospect,
Livin' Joy,
Negative Approach,
Moebius,
Sex Pistols,
Pantaleimon,
Dawn Penn,
Jawbox,
The Dead C,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harry Pussy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Blancmange,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
Marmalade,
FM Einheit,
Lightning Bolt,
B.T. Express,
Chrome,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxy Music,
The Barracudas,
Dennis Brown,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Order,
Eve St. Jones,
Byron Stingily,
Mars,
Glenn Branca,
Spandau Ballet,
Outsiders,
Von Mondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Jacques Brel,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Oneida,
Pierre Henry,
Todd Terry,
Severed Heads,
Porter Ricks,
Joy Division,
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Faraquet,
Quadrant,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.