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 Canada and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Susan Cadogan to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lightning Bolt 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 chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Wally Richardson,
Lyres,
Q and Not U,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott Heron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Young Marble Giants,
Sarah Menescal,
Cheater Slicks,
Hot Snakes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Reagan Youth,
Mr. Review,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Roxette,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry's Kids,
Juan Atkins,
Magazine,
Oblivians,
Tom Boy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brand Nubian,
The Fall,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
the Normal,
Grey Daturas,
Steve Hackett,
Al Stewart,
Johnny Osbourne,
Chris & Cosey,
The Leaves,
Donald Byrd,
Radiohead,
The Velvet Underground,
Nas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Y Pants,
Charles Mingus,
Outsiders,
Scratch Acid,
Echospace,
Hashim,
Dave Gahan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Colin Newman,
Kaleidoscope,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Maleditus Sound,
The Happenings,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Marvin Gaye,
Royal Trux,
Inner City,
John Holt,
Nick Fraelich,
Sight & Sound,
The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine, The Music Machine.
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.