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 Malawi and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the crunk 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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q65 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Symarip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Intrusion,
Cheater Slicks,
Altered Images,
The Searchers,
The New Christs,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Flash Fearless,
The Fire Engines,
Cal Tjader,
Harmonia,
Arab on Radar,
Tears for Fears,
Public Image Ltd.,
The American Breed,
Suburban Knight,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Certain Ratio,
Ponytail,
a-ha,
Essential Logic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lyres,
Camouflage,
Clear Light,
the Human League,
Stockholm Monsters,
Vladislav Delay,
Barry Ungar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Deadbeat,
Max Romeo,
Joey Negro,
The Busters,
Vainqueur,
James White and The Blacks,
Jacob Miller,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxy Music,
John Holt,
The Fugs,
Johnny Clarke,
The Moody Blues,
D'Angelo,
Arthur Verocai,
Sound Behaviour,
Angry Samoans,
Prince Buster,
Joe Finger,
The Dead C,
KRS-One,
Urselle,
Swell Maps,
The Gun Club,
Crooked Eye,
Kenny Larkin,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.