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 Togo and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer 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 Oneida to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 T.S.O.L.. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren 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 Gladiators,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry's Kids,
Schoolly D,
Sugar Minott,
Jandek,
Mo-Dettes,
Robert Görl,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Toasters,
Fad Gadget,
Crash Course in Science,
Minny Pops,
The Count Five,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Vainqueur,
The Sisters of Mercy,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
the Association,
La Düsseldorf,
Junior Murvin,
The Barracudas,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donald Byrd,
Marmalade,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gichy Dan,
Sun City Girls,
Crooked Eye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cymande,
Eddi Front,
Terrestrial Tones,
Slave,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Vogues,
The Cramps,
Unwound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Slackers,
Saccharine Trust,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Basic Channel,
Al Stewart,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
Audionom,
Boredoms,
Donny Hathaway,
Barry Ungar,
Maleditus Sound,
the Soft Cell,
The Five Americans,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Lydon,
Nirvana,
The Sound,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.