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 Jordan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Dennis Brown to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Angry Samoans,
Frankie Knuckles,
Soft Machine,
The Last Poets,
Howard Jones,
Lower 48,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers,
Shuggie Otis,
Au Pairs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mandrill,
Japan,
David McCallum,
Bobby Byrd,
Robert Görl,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Skatalites,
L. Decosne,
Qualms,
Laurel Aitken,
Deakin,
Pagans,
David Bowie,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Harmonia,
Swans,
Talk Talk,
Skriet,
OOIOO,
Sandy B,
Eve St. Jones,
The Buckinghams,
Byron Stingily,
Trumans Water,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Pierre Henry,
Babytalk,
Alphaville,
The Gun Club,
Heaven 17,
Fear,
Joensuu 1685,
The Leaves,
Sonic Youth,
New Order,
The Residents,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Durutti Column,
Barry Ungar,
Masters at Work,
The Young Rascals,
The Vogues,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gichy Dan,
Cheater Slicks,
Section 25,
Ice-T,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.