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 Croatia and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 The Fall to the jazz 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scott Walker,
The New Christs,
Half Japanese,
Roy Ayers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ohio Players,
The Gladiators,
Donny Hathaway,
A Certain Ratio,
Clear Light,
Bauhaus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Todd Terry,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deakin,
David Axelrod,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Golliwogs,
Mantronix,
Camberwell Now,
Procol Harum,
Bootsy Collins,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Maurizio,
Vladislav Delay,
Alphaville,
Man Parrish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Max Romeo,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Hill,
The Shadows of Knight,
Severed Heads,
Lindisfarne,
The Misunderstood,
Cybotron,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris Corsano,
Minor Threat,
Joy Division,
T. Rex,
Urselle,
Robert Hood,
Boz Scaggs,
The Blackbyrds,
Newcleus,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
Susan Cadogan,
Marmalade,
the Sonics,
The Seeds,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
One Last Wish,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Morten Harket,
Hoover,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harry Pussy,
Scion,
The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s, The J.B.'s.
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.