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 Cameroon and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin 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 Mad Mike to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minnie Riperton 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fuzztones,
Donald Byrd,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Erasure,
Tubeway Army,
Interpol,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun City Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pet Shop Boys,
Soft Machine,
Minutemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Sound,
Zero Boys,
Cluster,
Spandau Ballet,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse,
Duran Duran,
The Young Rascals,
Barrington Levy,
The Remains,
The Names,
Ituana,
DJ Sneak,
Lalann,
Aural Exciters,
Dennis Brown,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jandek,
Guru Guru,
Fela Kuti,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
The Detroit Cobras,
Glambeats Corp.,
Nico,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker,
Excepter,
Faraquet,
Tom Boy,
Fat Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Easy Going,
Dead Boys,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tropical Tobacco,
Parry Music,
Idris Muhammad,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Agitation Free,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.