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 Bulgaria and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Michelle Simonal to the punk 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Starr,
The Searchers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
James White and The Blacks,
Carl Craig,
Sonny Sharrock,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Black Bananas,
The Last Poets,
Goldenarms,
Cluster,
Jeru the Damaja,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skarface,
Circle Jerks,
Whodini,
Buzzcocks,
Yaz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ultravox,
Crooked Eye,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Seeds,
Chrome,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radiopuhelimet,
K-Klass,
Henry Cow,
Nirvana,
Chris & Cosey,
Nico,
John Coltrane,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sun City Girls,
Glenn Branca,
Jimmy McGriff,
Animal Collective,
Soft Cell,
Roxy Music,
Stiv Bators,
Thompson Twins,
Maleditus Sound,
Ponytail,
Anakelly,
The Busters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Judy Mowatt,
Stereo Dub,
Soft Machine,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
Slick Rick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Martian,
the Fania All-Stars,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Fuzztones,
The Slits,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
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.