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 Taiwan and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 a-ha to the rap 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siouxsie and the Banshees record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Essential Logic,
Aswad,
Sugar Minott,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül,
The Cowsills,
Cheater Slicks,
Byron Stingily,
The Shadows of Knight,
Drive Like Jehu,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Martian,
Barry Ungar,
Cecil Taylor,
The Move,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Doors,
The Dead C,
Wasted Youth,
Inner City,
Fat Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Lebanon Hanover,
Shuggie Otis,
Joensuu 1685,
John Lydon,
Lalann,
The Evens,
Amazonics,
LL Cool J,
Warsaw,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bobby Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Angry Samoans,
Harry Pussy,
Blancmange,
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Parrish,
Morten Harket,
The Stooges,
Suicide,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
Crooked Eye,
The Blackbyrds,
Procol Harum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Metal Thangz,
Royal Trux,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker,
Jimmy McGriff,
Stetsasonic,
The Selecter,
the Soft Cell,
The Last Poets,
These Immortal Souls,
Funky Four + One,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.