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 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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 oboe 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 Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic to the funk 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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Blossom Toes,
Don Cherry,
Bronski Beat,
Yazoo,
Saccharine Trust,
The J.B.'s,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rakim,
Suburban Knight,
Whodini,
Scratch Acid,
Joy Division,
Q and Not U,
Panda Bear,
Minnie Riperton,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
One Last Wish,
Stiv Bators,
Desert Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
CMW,
Nick Fraelich,
Accadde A,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lou Reed,
Warren Ellis,
Al Stewart,
Ornette Coleman,
Fad Gadget,
Peter and Kerry,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
Sällskapet,
David Axelrod,
Cymande,
Swell Maps,
The Durutti Column,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Nils Olav,
John Lydon,
DJ Style,
Amazonics,
Sixth Finger,
Hoover,
Ohio Players,
The Grass Roots,
Yellowson,
Fatback Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
John Coltrane,
Lower 48,
Henry Cow,
Gerry Rafferty,
Deakin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
K-Klass,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Morten Harket,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.