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 Egypt and from Mumbai.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron 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 The Gladiators to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
The Evens,
Inner City,
The Human League,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Arcadia,
Drexciya,
The United States of America,
Pere Ubu,
Lalann,
Carl Craig,
Ultra Naté,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Associates,
Black Sheep,
Joe Smooth,
Man Parrish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Symarip,
Jeff Mills,
Kaleidoscope,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Khruangbin,
The Knickerbockers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rotary Connection,
Arab on Radar,
Gong,
Excepter,
Second Layer,
Jerry's Kids,
Connie Case,
Howard Jones,
The Count Five,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Godley & Creme,
The Mummies,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Finger,
Soul Sonic Force,
Crooked Eye,
Skriet,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Christie,
The Blackbyrds,
Main Source,
Scott Walker,
Charles Mingus,
Tom Boy,
Kayak,
Q and Not U,
Todd Terry,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
John Cale,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barry Ungar,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.