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 Gabon and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Boredoms to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Robert Görl,
The Victims,
In Retrospect,
Radio Birdman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Thompson Twins,
Brand Nubian,
Nico,
Dead Boys,
Matthew Bourne,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bluetip,
Symarip,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Vladislav Delay,
The Young Rascals,
The Monks,
The Leaves,
Sparks,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeff Mills,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crooked Eye,
Darondo,
Swell Maps,
Harry Pussy,
Lower 48,
The Monochrome Set,
Jacques Brel,
John Coltrane,
Moby Grape,
New Order,
The Names,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Intrusion,
Sam Rivers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
The Cure,
Marcia Griffiths,
Surgeon,
Peter and Kerry,
Mission of Burma,
Blancmange,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Josef K,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Alton Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
Aaron Thompson,
Nils Olav,
The Raincoats,
The Zeros,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Anakelly,
Kevin Saunderson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.