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 Turkey and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Dirtbombs to the rock 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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Altered Images,
Procol Harum,
Magma,
The Saints,
John Cale,
Brass Construction,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Scion,
Amon Düül II,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
KRS-One,
Susan Cadogan,
June of 44,
The Music Machine,
Lalann,
Rekid,
Porter Ricks,
Jerry's Kids,
ABBA,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boogie Down Productions,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Faraquet,
Morten Harket,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Techniques,
T.S.O.L.,
Aural Exciters,
The Buckinghams,
Gong,
Jacques Brel,
Saccharine Trust,
Rod Modell,
Hardrive,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
Interpol,
Oblivians,
The Fire Engines,
Audionom,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Womack,
Scratch Acid,
Wire,
Bill Near,
Brand Nubian,
Yazoo,
Thompson Twins,
Harmonia,
Deadbeat,
Wasted Youth,
The United States of America,
Duran Duran,
The Modern Lovers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
D'Angelo,
Warren Ellis,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.