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 Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Seeds to the techno 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
Minnie Riperton,
The Last Poets,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terry Callier,
Depeche Mode,
Peter and Kerry,
Oneida,
Sam Rivers,
The Index,
Barrington Levy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Guru Guru,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Fuzztones,
Lou Reed,
Harry Pussy,
Tommy Roe,
Pet Shop Boys,
Moby Grape,
Marc Almond,
Skaos,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Misunderstood,
the Slits,
Technova,
DJ Sneak,
Lou Christie,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Isaac Hayes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Techniques,
Kas Product,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Saccharine Trust,
Scrapy,
Matthew Halsall,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Evens,
Barbara Tucker,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Leaves,
kango's stein massive,
Blake Baxter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Aloha Tigers,
Roxy Music,
Niagra,
The Martian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Y Pants,
Scientists,
Joe Smooth,
Archie Shepp,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Bill Wells,
Lakeside,
Index,
David Axelrod,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ornette Coleman,
Magazine,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.