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 Ivory Coast and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Sound Behaviour to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
The Dirtbombs,
Frankie Knuckles,
The New Christs,
Ludus,
ABBA,
Colin Newman,
Byron Stingily,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
Urselle,
Country Teasers,
Graham Central Station,
Mission of Burma,
Stiv Bators,
Depeche Mode,
Goldenarms,
AZ,
K-Klass,
The Names,
Fat Boys,
The Gun Club,
Morten Harket,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
Sun City Girls,
David Bowie,
The Pretty Things,
Oneida,
Reagan Youth,
Pulsallama,
Procol Harum,
World's Most,
Cecil Taylor,
The Grass Roots,
Wasted Youth,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
FM Einheit,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drexciya,
Bobby Sherman,
Loose Ends,
Fatback Band,
Cybotron,
Parry Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Easy Going,
Clear Light,
Kurtis Blow,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Lou Christie,
Das Ding,
Agent Orange,
The Gap Band,
In Retrospect,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.