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 Luxembourg and from Mexico City.
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 Toronto and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 a-ha to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Rekid,
The Mummies,
Pantaleimon,
Faraquet,
Thee Headcoats,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cure,
Maleditus Sound,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Offenders,
The Toasters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Johnny Clarke,
Laurel Aitken,
Reuben Wilson,
Crime,
Severed Heads,
Leonard Cohen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Talk Talk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Motorama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scan 7,
Ronnie Foster,
The Vogues,
The Gories,
Pere Ubu,
Rosa Yemen,
Surgeon,
Tubeway Army,
The Cramps,
The Seeds,
Deadbeat,
Susan Cadogan,
Q65,
Henry Cow,
Matthew Halsall,
Desert Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang Green,
John Lydon,
Arcadia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ice-T,
Monolake,
Rotary Connection,
Second Layer,
Popol Vuh,
June Days,
Mission of Burma,
Boz Scaggs,
Clear Light,
The Monochrome Set,
Erykah Badu,
Whodini,
Eden Ahbez,
Eddi Front,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.