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 Comoros and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
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 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Human League to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Sandy B,
FM Einheit,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Matthew Bourne,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Hoover,
Black Moon,
The Beau Brummels,
Rhythm & Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
The Searchers,
Silicon Teens,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Barracudas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
Chris Corsano,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dead C,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Half Japanese,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Wire,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Con Funk Shun,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Görl,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joe Smooth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Motions,
Suicide,
Buzzcocks,
Das Ding,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Fatback Band,
Laurel Aitken,
Desert Stars,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aswad,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Reed,
Todd Terry,
The Mummies,
Boz Scaggs,
The Music Machine,
The Gories,
Joyce Sims,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tres Demented,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barclay James Harvest,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cymande,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.