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 France and from Tokyo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 F. McDonald to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erasure,
Suicide,
Clear Light,
The Zeros,
Minnie Riperton,
Roxy Music,
Hardrive,
The Birthday Party,
The Moody Blues,
Trumans Water,
Gang of Four,
The Young Rascals,
Los Fastidios,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gladiators,
Can,
Animal Collective,
Rekid,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Hot Snakes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deadbeat,
Technova,
Dawn Penn,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gang Starr,
Shoche,
Ituana,
Kenny Larkin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Germs,
Outsiders,
Radio Birdman,
The Star Department,
Alison Limerick,
Sparks,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The New Christs,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
The Remains,
The Sound,
Dual Sessions,
Camouflage,
Qualms,
The United States of America,
Oneida,
Bobby Sherman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moss Icon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moby Grape,
Siglo XX,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sandy B,
Nico,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smoke,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.