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 Cambodia and from London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Pierre Henry to the punk 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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skarface,
Spandau Ballet,
Little Man,
Crispy Ambulance,
Japan,
The Fall,
World's Most,
The Seeds,
Barrington Levy,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Colin Newman,
Can,
Deadbeat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Dead C,
The Index,
The Count Five,
Roger Hodgson,
The Standells,
Echospace,
Supertramp,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
Cymande,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tres Demented,
Malaria!,
Royal Trux,
The Young Rascals,
Eurythmics,
Lindisfarne,
U.S. Maple,
Lyres,
Sugar Minott,
Khruangbin,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Matthew Bourne,
The Cowsills,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
Shuggie Otis,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Chrome,
Theoretical Girls,
Avey Tare,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Moody Blues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Kinks,
Nas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cabaret Voltaire,
the Germs,
a-ha,
Gang of Four,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.