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 Cairo.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 Knickerbockers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
The Names,
Warsaw,
Inner City,
Sun Ra,
Infiniti,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Model 500,
Hasil Adkins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bad Manners,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Connie Case,
the Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
The Standells,
Toni Rubio,
Dark Day,
Television Personalities,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Siglo XX,
Monolake,
Parry Music,
Agent Orange,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Groovy Waters,
The Alarm Clocks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sexual Harrassment,
Make Up,
Quantec,
Dorothy Ashby,
Thompson Twins,
The Offenders,
Mad Mike,
Deepchord,
Blossom Toes,
Niagra,
The Fugs,
Todd Rundgren,
Pulsallama,
Wally Richardson,
Man Parrish,
Darondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Skaos,
Ken Boothe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yazoo,
Brass Construction,
Derrick Morgan,
The Stooges,
John Holt,
Cybotron,
Smog,
The Mojo Men,
Bluetip,
Cheater Slicks,
Neil Young,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.