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 Croatia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 H. Thieme to the disco 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Five Americans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Young Marble Giants,
Eurythmics,
the Swans,
10cc,
Simply Red,
The Martian,
Blancmange,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deepchord,
Matthew Bourne,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Fugs,
Peter and Kerry,
Rapeman,
Yusef Lateef,
New York Dolls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
Cal Tjader,
ABC,
Scrapy,
Wasted Youth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Prince Buster,
Howard Jones,
Hoover,
The Beau Brummels,
Organ,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fat Boys,
Scan 7,
Fad Gadget,
Banda Bassotti,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Swell Maps,
T.S.O.L.,
Crash Course in Science,
Absolute Body Control,
Bill Wells,
The Sound,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Knickerbockers,
Black Bananas,
Moby Grape,
Deakin,
H. Thieme,
LL Cool J,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Delta 5,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Sonics,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.